


A Newly Beating Heart

by Kirathaune



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirathaune/pseuds/Kirathaune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xandrian's master has been killed, and he and fellow mage H'rit are charged with the task of retrieving the stolen spellbooks they need to continue their studies. Xandrian summons a demon to assist in their quest, and neither demon nor human is quite prepared for the attraction that grows between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_ Thud. Thud. _

Pain exploded in Xandrian's head and leg as the bookshelf toppled onto him, pitching hundreds of dusty tomes onto the stone floor of his master's study. The room seemed to be spinning, the air foul with the stench of ozone from their attacker's lightning blasts. "Master," he croaked as he tried to free himself. Homis stopped him with a flick of his hand, and then reached out with the other to hurl a crackling ball of flame at the man who continued to advance toward them.

_ Damn you, Master - let me help you! _ Xandrian struggled against the _stonestill_ spell, but to no avail. Screams of rage remained in his throat, trapped in frozen vocal chords.

Eyelids remained open, helplessly witnessing the final, brutal strike.

_ Thud. Thud. _

Homis fell first to his knees, and then he crumpled to the floor.

_ Thud thud thud thud. _

Heavy footfalls rang in Xandrian's ears, and a blur of black passed him as the man strode to his master's desk. A hand was raised, and the wood tore and splintered apart, revealing the hidden spellbooks within. "Did you think you could deny me these spells, Homis?" the man asked, almost conversationally, while he plucked the books from their cache. "You should have taught them to me when I was your student, when I was the one named as your Reader."

_ Thud thud. _

Two vicious kicks struck Xandrian's ribs, and more pain bloomed and raced along his side. "But you chose _him_ instead - a nameless wretch you found filthy and squalling in the road. Were you tired of playing lover, and wanted to play father instead? I am by far the better mage, Homis... even better than you. Now it is time for the student to overtake the master." The man extended his hand toward Homis' inert form.

_ No! _ Xandrian screamed wordlessly.

A flash of crackling blue-white light, the stench of burnt flesh.

_ Noooooo! _

_ Thudthudthudthud _

"Xandrian!"

"No!" The cry was torn from Xandrian's throat as he sat up in his bed. His heart was pounding, and sweat ran in rivulets down his bare chest, soaking the sheet that pooled about his waist.

_ The nightmare again. _ He heaved great gulping breaths of air while he struggled to clear his head of those awful, final moments in Homis' study.

"Xandrian! Open the door!"

He recognized the voice; it was H'rit - although what H'rit was doing outside his chambers at this ungodly hour was another matter. Xandrian blinked blearily and glanced out the window, and the pale streaks of light on the edge of the horizon told him it was just before dawn. "Coming," he called. He rubbed his face, feeling the rasp of stubble against his palms, and then threw back the covers. Bedsprings creaked as he rose from his bed, and he winced when he put his full weight on his still-healing leg. Xandrian shrugged into his morning-robe and walked over to the door, scowling at the limp that accompanied his gait. He undid the latch, pulled the door open and growled, "What the hell do you want at this hour?"

H'rit was impeccably dressed, as always; the folds of his green Regenerist tunic were neatly pressed, and his Journeyman's belt was properly tied to fully display the intricate knots of his completed Studies and Skills. He glanced at Xandrian's disheveled robe and sweat-drenched hair. "Another nightmare?" He frowned when he saw the way Xandrian's left leg didn't entirely touch the floor. "That leg is still giving you pain? Why didn't you tell me?" He reached out toward the affected leg. "Here, let me-"

Xandrian batted his hand away. "Leave it," he said. "It's healing, just slowly. Why are you here? It's barely dawn, you know." He walked back to his bed and sat down while H'rit entered the room and shut the door.

His friend's gaze narrowed, and he fingered the fully knotted Healing strand in his belt. "I have achieved every knot in Healing," he said. "I could completely heal that leg, Xan, if you'll let me. And you know this. I have to wonder why you won't let me - do you fear your anger will fade with your pain?"

"It's a reminder," Xandrian replied shortly.

"A rebuke, more like," H'rit retorted. "An undeserved one, seeing as Homis _stonestilled_ you. That was rather cruel of him, I must say - although I imagine he didn't realize that he left you unable to look away." He examined the tips of his brown suede boots that peeked out from under his tunic. "I... am grateful that Kanera's qi blast rendered me unconscious. It was hard enough to see the aftermath of what that monster did to her; I think I would not be sane if I had seen her die."

Xandrian had his doubts about H'rit's sanity on a good day, but he kept that opinion to himself. "I'll ask again, H'rit - why are you here?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off the headache that threatened to settle between his brows.

H'rit let the belt strand slip from his fingers. "The Archmage wants to see us in her chambers."

Xandrian looked up, every muscle in his body tensing. "She's learned something?" He stood and quickly shed his robe as he strode to his wardrobe, not caring about his nudity. Opening the doors, he pulled out a pair of soft wool breeches and a linen shirt. He tugged the shirt over his head. "She found the bastard?" he asked while he pulled on the breeches.

H'rit shrugged. "I don't know. I hope so - but I'm afraid all I know is that we've been summoned."

"To her chambers, not her office or study. And at an hour when no one would believe that she would voluntarily be conscious." Xandrian reached for the dove gray tunic that marked him as an Ephemerist and slipped it on, tying his Journeyman's belt securely around his narrow waist.

His friend nodded. "I would agree that this is not an official meeting. Also, Kisannon sent Jerosh to wake me and convey her wishes, and not the usual... novice."

Xandrian grunted. "Bed-toy, you mean." He fished around under his bed, retrieved a pair of worn leather boots and donned them. "Well, let's go see what she has to say." They left his chambers and the two men walked down the deserted hallways of the Collegium in silence; by mutual decision neither of them called any light.

#

They walked silently, unerringly in the pre-dawn darkness through a maze of passageways that would leave a novice (and most apprentices) utterly lost. Xandrian decided that one benefit to growing up in the Collegium's stone citadel was knowing the place like the back of his hand. This place had been his and H'rit's playground, although neither had been the kind of child who truly played. They had been quiet and studious children, and after their lessons they had explored their kingdom and cataloged its hills and valleys. Hills were the high towers, where they would perch on window ledges and slate rooftops and look out over the Collegium and the lands beyond while they talked of magic and shared scraps of spells that were learned by listening through keyholes; valleys were the catacomb-like stacks and oubliettes of the great Library where they would take turns sneaking scrolls and spellbooks under their robes and then find a dusty, out-of-the-way niche to pore over the contents and copy them into their already overflowing notebooks.

Xandrian felt a pang of nostalgia for those younger days, when in their childish arrogance they assumed they would grow up to be mighty wizards. 

They silently crossed the moon-streaked courtyard that separated the Collegium from the Conclave. The Archmage's residence was a nexus between the two complexes; it was the apex of the hodgepodge of buildings that formed the Collegium, while at the same time it overlooked the single round tower of the Conclave. Its location was deliberate, speaking of the Archmage's position as the Chancellor of the school and the Presider of the Conclave.

Xandrian glanced over at the sparkling, white granite walls of the Conclave's tower. He'd never given much thought to this place, where the mages of the land met and governed themselves. Homis had been appointed a seat in its Great Hall, and seeing the building reminded Xandrian that he had inherited that seat and would now be required to attend the Conclave's quarterly Gatherings.

His lip curled in distaste; he wanted no parts of politics or governance. All he wanted was to be left alone to continue his studies, not to sit in a room with squabbling mages for days on end while they wrought policy for how magic was to be used in the land.

At least he wouldn't be required to attend before he achieved Master rank, for only Masters were permitted to sit at Gatherings.

The Archmage's bondsman greeted them and led them into the small keep that served as the Archmage's offices and home. Xandrian frowned as they followed Jerosh up a long, winding stairway.

"Why are we meeting her in her chambers, Jerosh, instead of her office?" he asked.

The elderly bondsman glanced back at him. "Visitors to the Office of the Archmage must be recorded, young Xan. My Lady does not wish for your names to appear on any public records. Bringing you to her chambers may be explained by a sudden, if eccentric, desire to see two young men she regards as part of her family. Also, she did not wish to get dressed." He sniffed disapprovingly.

Xandrian snorted.

Jerosh stopped in front of an ornately carved door and tapped on it. "The young men are here, my Lady, as you requested," he called.

"Wonderful! Send them in, dear, and thank you."

"I hope she's decent, at least," the servant muttered, and he opened the door and ushered them in.

"Did I wake you from your beauty sleep, Xandrian? You don't look at all well, darling." Kisannon Goanyen, Archmage of the Conclave and Chancellor of the Collegium, leaned back in her velvet chaise and examined her lacquered nails. A flimsy silken robe was casually tied, revealing more than a glimpse of creamy curves, and ringlets of silver-streaked ebony hair spilled across her shoulders. Even without her usual array of cosmetics she made a spectacular sight.

While Xandrian was unmoved by her beauty he appreciated the Archmage's calculated use of it; more than one enemy had underestimated the razor-sharp mind she hid behind artifice and a seemingly lazy attitude, and the woman had more power in her ring-laden pinky than half the Conclave combined. Xandrian was also considered beautiful - much to his disgust, but early on he had studied the Archmage's techniques, for he understood the worth of the ploy. "I'm surprised you're letting us see you without your makeup on, Kisannon," he remarked, unable to resist the dig.

She made a face at him. "It's wasted on you, so why bother? Come, sit, both of you."

As he sat down on the plush rug Xandrian had a moment of deja-vu that took him back to his childhood, when he and H'rit would sit at this powerful woman's feet and listen to stories of wizards and dragons - 'Yes, of course they were real, darlings,' she would assure them. She was an eccentric (albeit dangerous) foster-aunt to them both, and Xandrian was both immensely fond of, if even more immensely irritated by her.

"Did you locate that man, Kisannon?" H'rit asked as he sat next to Xandrian.

"Nikolon," Xandrian spat.

"Yes," the Archmage replied, answering them both. "After the attack I hired a mercenary to follow Nikolon and find out where he is setting up shop these days. He reported back to me late last night, and I have spent the last few hours getting everything in place."

"In place for what?" asked H'rit.

"Why, to send you boys after him, of course." Kisannon sat up straight in the chaise. "Don't you want the spellbooks that are rightfully yours?"

"Damn right I do," growled Xandrian. He glared at the Archmage. "I would have chased after that bastard as soon as I regained consciousness. But _you_ told us to wait."

"Of course I did. You both had to heal from your injuries first, and by that time we had no idea where Nikolon had gone. He was always a secretive boy, and he's only gotten worse. Besides, it will work out better this way."

"Better?" Xandrian leapt to his feet. "It's been six fucking months - that murderous bastard could be on the other side of the continent!" His gut twisted at the thought of the other man handling his master's spellbooks, reading the spells and rituals that were intended for him to learn. The double loss had cut him deeply.

"Sit." There was steel in the sapphire blue gaze that met his. "I did not allow you to reprimand me then, and I will not allow it now."

Xandrian sat, and eyed her mutinously.

She leaned forward. "It is better this way because he thinks he got away with it. I sent a group of apprentices out after him, but specifically instructed them to give up and return home to the Collegium. Another thing, darlings, is that he assumed he killed both of you."

H'rit frowned. "How can you know that?"

"Because, my dear H'rit, you are alive. This man killed three mages - Kanera and Homis were not his only victims; the other mage was an Elementalist who lived outside the Collegium. In that instance he killed the students as well. Your masters were clever enough to make it look like you had been killed in his initial strike." She reached over and brushed golden-blond strands of hair from Xandrian's forehead, a silent apology for the horror he witnessed.

He knocked her hand away. "He killed another mage? You didn't tell us that."

"You didn't need to know then. I'm telling you now." Kisannon sat back against the cushions. "These three people all had one thing in common; they were all former masters who at some point refused to name Nikolon Jant as a Reader of their Yin books."

Now it was H'rit's turn to stand. "He was her student? Homis' too?"

Xandrian tugged his friend back down to sit on the plush rug and then looked over at Kisannon. "The Yin books, you said. So he was already named a Reader of their Yang books?"

"Clever boy," said the Archmage. "You are correct; Nikolon apprenticed under these three mages and completed his knots for the Yang portion of each Discipline. However, each of these masters decided - separately, I might add - that they did not wish to share their darker, Yin teachings with this student. You can imagine how that must have frustrated him, especially to be denied by Homis."

"Because they were lovers."

"Yes. Not an arrangement I necessarily agree with, but he is not the only student to share their master's bed as well as their books." She gave a sidelong glance in H'rit's direction. Two splashes of pink colored his cheeks, but H'rit met her gaze evenly.

Xandrian ignored his friend's embarrassment. "We were just beginning to be taught from the Yin books," he said.

"I know," she replied. "They are always the last spells to be taught, because a mage needs the experience gained from the Yang spells to understand and properly wield the Yin spells. Darkness is harder to contain, and requires more strength of will and mind. You both were named Readers of all your masters' books, but in addition to that you were also chosen as their heirs. Those are now _your_ books, and any secrets that are locked in them will be open to you."

Fine blond eyebrows drew together. "Will he be able to read the Yin books? If you're not named a Reader all you see is blank paper."

The Archmage sighed heavily. "I don't know. In general, only a Reader can see what is written in a mage's spellbook, although an Archmage can see them as well. But Nikolon was not an ordinary student. He was - is - brilliant, my dears; I have never seen a student so gifted across so many Disciplines - and that includes you, Xan, clever as you are. Nikolon's brilliance gave him the cream of the Conclave as masters when it was time for him to begin his apprenticeships, but one after another declined to continue with him."

"Even Kanera refused him?" H'rit blinked. "She must have seen something in him that made her do so."

Kisannon nodded. "Yes, they all did, even as they had trouble telling me exactly why they did not wish to continue teaching that young man. Homis was the only one who could really verbalize it; 'He's broken, somehow,' he told me once, 'There is a wrongness in him, and I am afraid of what he may do with my teachings.'"

"And yet you did nothing." Xandrian stared at her.

"I did nothing," she agreed. "There was nothing to do - he had broken no rules, committed no crimes. I can't expel a student because my fellow mages no longer wish to teach him. Nikolon left after Homis refused him, declaring that there were plenty of mages outside the Collegium that would be willing to teach him."

Xandrian recalled the vague feeling of familiarity he had experienced while watching the rogue mage destroy his master's study. "Was he Homis' student when Homis found me?"

"Yes, and he wasn't pleased when Homis decided to raise you as his son. Do you remember him?"

"Yes," he replied. "When he attacked Homis I thought I recognized him, but didn't know from where. I remember that he didn't like me."

She laughed. "No, he didn't like you; you were his rival. Not like that -" she waved a hand when Xandrian sputtered in outrage,"- but you had Homis' love, and he did not."

Xandrian grit his teeth. "And now he has my master's books. _My_ books," he amended.

"And my books as well," H'rit added. He glanced at the Archmage. "Kisannon, you said he probably thinks we're dead?"

"Yes," she answered, "and he also thinks we failed to pursue him. The apprentices came back without locating him, but Jomm - the mercenary I hired - continued on and followed him to his lair. He stayed long enough to confirm that Nikolon was indeed living there, and then he returned to give me his report."

"And he returned last night," said Xandrian.

"Yes. Now, here is what we are going to do; you two are going to return to your quarters and pack up everything you feel you will need for this journey. I've taken care of procuring your clothing, just worry about your notebooks and other personal items. You will be traveling on horseback, so keep things as light as you can. Jomm will act as your guide and tracker and will travel with you to Arrelia."

H'rit's eyes widened. "Arrelia? That's at least a month's journey!"

"Probably twice that," said Kisannon. "I want you to appear as regular travelers - pilgrims, specifically. I don't want it known that you are mages - you do not want to lose the advantage you have."

Xandrian huffed impatiently. "So we crawl our way to Arrelia, we get our books back and we kill the bastard. What are we waiting for?"

The Archmage gave him a long, steady look. "We need to understand each other now. You and H'rit are two of the most gifted students I have at the Collegium; you were both raised here, and are the heirs of brilliant mages. But your studies are incomplete - you are still journeymen."

"Nikolon's studies are incomplete, too!" Xandrian protested. "In fact, we very well may know more spells than he does."

She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Didn't you hear me earlier? Nikolon Jant is a genius, twisted bastard though he is. Right now he is way beyond you, little boy - you saw what he did to your master. Homis was truly a master mage; he had been appointed Archmage, only he didn't want the position."

Xandrian was shocked into silence. Homis, the Archmage? He knew his master had been powerful, but he couldn't imagine the gentle, silly man who had raised him being the Archmage.

"Didn't know that, did you? And Nikolon killed him. You are not messing with an ordinary mage. Now, you and H'rit may stand a chance together; I wasn't just being nice when I said you are gifted. I've watched you two over the years, and Xan, I can easily see you succeeding me - not that I plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

Another shock; achieving the status of Archmage was not something Xandrian had ever contemplated. 

Kisannon cackled. "I love seeing you speechless, Xan." She poked him in the chest. "I'll say it again; we need to understand each other. This man is very dangerous, because he is obsessed and has no compunction about killing. But you and H'rit have is the advantage of surprise, and whatever Yin spells you have mastered. Let me see your belts," she demanded abruptly. "Take them off."

The two men glanced at each other, and then they complied. The Archmage fingered the knotted strands, and examined the intricate series of knots on each.

"This might work," she murmured. "You are further along than I thought. H'rit, I am pleased to see that you are so advanced in qi manipulation. And Xandrian... you have an interesting assortment of knots here. You've Summoned?"

Xandrian nodded.

"So I'm assuming you've bound some demons and made and completed some basic Agreements with at least a few others?" At Xandrian's second nod a wide smile broke out on her face. "Very good, my boy. I've just had a lovely idea."

Xandrian wasn't sure he liked that smile, or the 'lovely idea'.

She leaned forward, clutching the knotted belt, and continued, "I want you to summon as powerful a demon as you can, and bind it or get it to Agree to help you. I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be careful making an Agreement with a demon - but I'll tell you anyway. Be careful. Then, cast an illusion to make it appear in human form until you release it. Do you understand where I'm headed with this?"

"Yes." It was H'rit who answered. "The demon will appear as a normal human, which will give us an additional element of surprise. And power, once released."

"Full marks, darling," Kisannon beamed at him. "Your main Disciplines are not aggressive ones, and there are not a lot of offensive spell-knots on these belts." She double-checked a few more knots. "You do have a decent selection, but if Xandrian can successfully add a concealed demon to your arsenal I think you stand a very good chance at success."

Throughout this whole conversation something had been niggling at the back of Xandrian's brain. "There's more to this than us getting our rightful property back," he said. "You have been planning - no, counting - on our participation. Why are you sending us to do this, Kisannon?"

Kisannon's face lost all trace of merriment. "I do not want that man to have any access to the Yin spells of my very best Regenerist, Ephemerist and Elementalist. The yin of regeneration is destruction and rending; the yin of conjuring and summoning is voiding and banishing, and the yin of the elements is complete chaos. There are spells in those books that would let him wreak havoc - even tamper with the Abysm - and I will not allow that to happen." She shook her head. "He was not named a Reader, but as skilled as he is, there is a chance that Nikolon will figure out how to read those books, and I simply can't allow that chance. You, my darlings, are the only two people I trust to do this for me."

She tightened her clasp on the belts. "I will keep these; rank belts are only to be worn at the Collegium and it would be madness to allow outsiders to know your skills. Go, pack, and come back here after the morning meal - Jomm will be back with the horses and you will leave then. And Xan, stop being childish and let H'rit properly heal that leg."

They all rose, and Xandrian suffered the Archmage's perfumed embrace. While she was embracing H'rit he asked, "When do you want me to summon the demon?"

"Soon, but not here," she replied. "That level of sorcery gives off a distinctive energy, and I don't want your activity traced back here to the Collegium - as far as Nikolon knows my two high-level Ephemerists are dead. I gave Jomm directions to my ancestral home; the estate is along the Pilgrim's Road and will provide you with the privacy and space you will need. I have sent a messenger ahead, so you will be expected and well attended to."

Kisannon smoothed a fold on H'rit's tunic. "I'm very proud of both you boys - no... young _men_ , for you are grown men now. May the gods watch over you both." She touched Xandrian's cheek. "Be careful, Xan."  
  
TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Jomm leading the way, Xandrian and H'rit head toward their first stop on their journey - the Archmage's estate.

Xandrian couldn't remember the last time he had ridden a horse.

His mare was a peaceful creature, and his saddle was comfortable and well-made, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that by nightfall his ass was going to pay dearly for his lack of riding experience. He thanked several gods that they were not going at a hard gallop; as laden as they were, the horses were unwilling to do more than trot. The weather was unseasonably warm for an autumn day, so Xandrian had shed his cloak and was slowly adjusting to being continually outdoors. The afternoon sunlight was starting to get in his eyes, however, and with a muttered curse he tried to shield his eyes from the sun's glare.

Jomm brought his horse up alongside Xandrian and his mount. "Guess you two aren't used to being outside, hunh?" he said with a grin. "All holed up with your books and spells, I imagine. Better watch that fair skin of yours, it'd be a bitch to get sun-burnt this early on." A tanned hand held out a small pot of salve.

Xandrian rolled his eyes. Jomm had spent most of the day dispensing 'traveler's wisdom' to him and H'rit; discoursing about the best way to sit in the saddle, handle the reins, how many breaks they should take... and now he was lecturing about sunburn.

Xandrian glared at him and muttered, "I'm fine."

A mahogany eyebrow rose in skepticism. "Suit yourself. But you can get sunburn even in the fall, and I'd hate to see you ruin that pretty porcelain complexion of yours."

"Fuck you."

Jomm laughed and held out the pot to H'rit, who took it and dutifully applied some salve to his face and hands. The lanky redhead then rode out slightly ahead of them, and H'rit guided his horse closer to Xandrian.

"You're being silly, you know," H'rit commented. "He is being paid to help us, and you - we - have to admit that we are going to need his help." He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and held out the pot to Xandrian. "Just put it on, okay? We're going to feel awful enough when we get off these creatures, there's no point in adding a painful sunburn to the list of our impending aches and pains."

Xandrian accepted the pot and sullenly applied the salve. The bridge of his nose stung a bit when he rubbed the balm into his skin, and he grimaced at the pain. H'rit was right, he had to admit; their unusual upbringing had left them completely unprepared for moving about in the 'mundane' world. Buying supplies, arranging lodging - all of those tasks were unfamiliar to the two mages. It was just that Jomm seemed to be a little too amused by their lack of worldly savvy, and Xandrian hated the idea that they were being laughed at.

"You said it will be three days' journey to the Archmage's estate, Jomm?" H'rit called ahead to their escort.

"That's right. We'll spend the next two nights at inns, and then the following night we will be at Herself's castle," Jomm held back on his reins and allowed the others to catch up with him.

"Castle?"

"Yep, moat and everything, from what I've been told. I hear tell she's a Countess or Duchess or something." He glanced at the two mages, who were staring at him in surprise. "You didn't know? She's rich, my good fellows; this whole little field trip is being paid for with money from her estate. So no rat-trap hovels for us; we'll be able to stay in decent inns for almost the whole trip - our own rooms, even!" Jomm's tone told them that he was extremely familiar with rat-trap hovels.

H'rit waited until Jomm took the lead again before leaning over and murmuring to Xandrian, "I assume a castle will meet your needs?"

Xandrian nodded. "It's best to summon in a stone building, so that if you accidentally get a elemental spirit there's no fear of burning the place down. Also, stone walls are thick and keep the noise down - some demons don't take well to being bound. If her estate is old and well-heeled, I'm sure there will be a chamber large enough to work in. I'm glad we'll be there instead of an inn." Xandrian couldn't imagine trying to do a proper summoning in a tiny, rented room, surrounded by an inn full of common folk. All it would take would be one superstitious clod overhearing him and he would find himself being burnt at the stake. His was an easily misunderstood Discipline, and Xandrian didn't want to take unnecessary chances.

"You think you will be prepared by the time we get there?"

"I think so. I'll spend the next two nights studying the necessary spells and make notes and checklists. Our first night there I will familiarize myself with whatever rooms I am given; Kisannon said she was sending a messenger ahead of us, and she knows my requirements."

"Can I help you in any way?"

Xandrian shook his head. "Not really. You can help me clear the room, if necessary, but I must be alone to do the summoning - you are not trained in that level of Ephemerist magic, and your presence would be a distraction." He glanced up the road at Jomm. "H'rit, I don't want him to know I'm summoning a demon - the true identity of our new companion will stay between us."

"And Kisannon, of course," said H'rit. "I overheard her speaking to Jomm this morning. She told him we were going to be taking one of the servants with us, so he will assume that this... person... will be that servant. It completes the charade, really - if we are supposed to be two noble-borns traveling on a pilgrimage, it would expected of us to have a servant in addition to a guide." He fingered the brocade of his jerkin. "It feels strange to be wearing these clothes," he murmured. "I have spent all my life in mages' robes. You look splendid in your outfit, Xan, I would never guess that you weren't noble-born."

Xandrian tugged at the ruffled collar of his silk shirt. "For all we know, we could be noble-born. You were a foundling, just like me. She's taking advantage of the situation and is playing dolls with us," he grumbled, "dressing us up in velvet and brocade and cutting our hair." He ran his fingers through freshly-shorn blond strands. "I liked my hair longer. You look better with it short, though."

"Kanera liked it long."

"Kanera is dead."

H'rit's lips thinned. "You are an unfeeling bastard sometimes, Xandrian. Do you enjoy being cruel?"

Xandrian gave his friend a long, steady look. "I tell the truth. Sometimes the truth is cruel. You cannot live for someone who is dead."

"You can't tell me you don't miss Homis. He was your father, even if not by blood!"

"Yes, he was my father, and yes, I miss him," Xandrian replied calmly. _I loved him,_ he thought, and he pushed down the pain and rage that surged up inside him. "But he taught me that all things live, and all things die. He is dead, and I am still alive. So are you. We must not squander the gift they gave us."

"What's going on?" Jomm asked, interrupting them. "You look upset, H'rit."

"Nothing," Xandrian answered. "I was reminding H'rit that our lives are a gift." He met his friend's gaze, and was pleased to see him nod in response.

Jomm winced. "Eh, I heard a bit of what happened to you two." He reached over and touched H'rit's arm. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"T-thank you," H'rit replied. "You're very kind."

"Kind? Not me, I'm afraid." The tracker clapped him on the shoulder, and then pointed further up the road. "My lords, the inn is less than two miles from here. We'll get settled in, and then I will buy us a round of drinks to toast our dear departed."

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," said Xandrian. "You might do, tracker-man, you might do."

Jomm flashed him a grin and coaxed the horses to a trot.

#

Three hours later, H'rit and Jomm were finishing their third round of ales. Xandrian had returned to his room right after dinner to study, so H'rit found himself alone at the table with the redheaded tracker. He watched the serving-girl clear away their stack of dishes, and he couldn't believe how much he had eaten; normally he ate very little. He supposed it must have been due to all the traveling they had done that day, also the hearty stew was easily one of the best meals he had ever had. Jomm had taken care of arranging for their rooms and getting the horses stabled for the night, and H'rit had to admit that the man was doing his job well. He accepted a fresh tankard from the girl and took a generous quaff of the golden liquid within. "So, Jomm," he said, "Kisannon called you a mercenary. There's a story behind that, I'm sure."

Jomm snorted. "Most folks call me a tracker. I track, and I hunt, and people hire me for that. Usually it's a boar or some other wild animal that is terrorizing a village, but sometimes the wild animal walks on two legs instead of four." He sipped at his ale. "I've acquired a reputation for finding things - and people - for a fee, so I guess that's why she hired me." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm very good at what I do. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting to have to play escort and guide to a couple of mages - and aren't you fellows still students? You're young - what are you, twenty-five, maybe?" he asked, pointing a finger at H'rit.

"Twenty-four. Xandrian is twenty-five," H'rit replied. "And yes, we are journeymen rank. But you'll find that most of the mages you might encounter outside the Collegium or the Conclave are journeymen; they either chose not to continue their studies or did not have the talent to learn the higher level spells that are required for the rank of master."

"I've seen spell-casters here and there in my travels, but they're a lot older than you two."

"We are young even for journeymen," H'rit said. "But we've lived at the Collegium since we were very small, and were raised by our masters." He traced the lacing of foam on the edge of his pewter tankard. "I had two masters, and I lost them both."

"They were married, your masters?" Jomm pulled out a pipe and tobacco and began packing the bowl.

H'rit tried to chuckle, but it came out more as a small choking sound. "No. Master Gywin was my foster-father, and he took Kanera as his journeyman when I was thirteen - she was ten years older than I. She was very gifted, and made Master rank at the age of thirty. Gywin passed away while I was apprenticing for the other Disciplines - they make you do that, you have to study all five Disciplines before you can achieve Journeyman rank." H'rit was aware that he was rambling, but it felt so good to talk to someone about Kanera. "A-anyway, by the time I finished my apprenticeships and returned to continue as a Regenerist Gywin was dead, and Kanera had succeeded him. Then she became my master." _My everything._ He closed his eyes and drew a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not making much sense."

"She was more than your master, I think."

A gentle touch on his hand startled him. H'rit opened his eyes to meet Jomm's gaze, and there was sympathy in the other man's russet eyes. "Yes, she was also my lover."

"It's okay to grieve for her, H'rit, in spite of what Xandrian says."

"Ah, you overhead."

A crooked grin appeared on Jomm's face. "I'm nosy," he admitted. "Comes with the job, it's how I learn things." He went back to preparing his pipe. "He's grieving too, he just hides it a little better. I get the impression he's pretty tight-assed about a lot of things."

A laugh escaped H'rit then, a genuine one. "Xandrian is very single-minded, I will agree with you on that. If we get our books back I would predict that he will be a Master within a year, possibly two. Kisannon said he will be Archmage some day."

Jomm lit his pipe. "You'll get them back. You've got me, right? That crazy bastard we're after doesn't stand a chance." He blew a set of smoke rings across the table.

"Jomm, what's he like?" H'rit gripped his half-empty tankard. "I only caught a glimpse of him before Kanera knocked me unconscious - black robes and black hair was all I could make out. I never knew him when he was Homis' journeyman."

The tracker's expression grew serious. "He's a crafty one, and powerful. It took every bit of skill I have to track him, and keep him from knowing I was following him."

H'rit frowned. "How can you be sure that he doesn't know you followed him?"

"Because the other two people who were tracking him are dead." Jomm puffed on his pipe. "Your Archmage, she sent two other men out besides me."

"That doesn't bode well for us."

"You're forgetting that he is no longer traveling," Jomm pointed out, "and I'm sure you two have some sort of 'oh-I'm-not-here-you-don't-see-me' hokum that you can do. And - don't forget - you've got me." He grinned cheekily and signaled the serving-girl for another ale.

H'rit rolled his eyes. He was glad Xandrian wasn't here for this conversation; between the tracker's swagger and his teasing remarks about Xandrian's looks, his friend was barely tolerating the man. H'rit liked him, though - Jomm had an easygoing manner that was a pleasant contrast from Xandrian's taciturnity, and there was a gentleness beneath his bluster that H'rit appreciated very much. He drained his tankard and set it on the table.

"Another one?" Jomm asked.

H'rit shook his head. "No, thank you. I think I'd better be off to bed - there's a long day of riding ahead of us. Two long days, in fact."

"You'll do fine. Just keep sneaking Pretty-Boy that salve, okay? I don't need to hear him bitch about being sunburned."

H'rit found himself laughing again while he wished Jomm goodnight and left the tavern. As he headed up the steps to his room H'rit realized that he hadn't laughed like that in several months. Since Kanera died, in fact. More surprising was the fact that he didn't feel guilty about it.

#

"This isn't a castle, this is a small fiefdom." Xandrian stared in disbelief at the expanse of rolling green hills and woodland forest that lay before them. They had just been ushered in through a pair of imposing, metal-banded doors by an old man who seemed to be just as old as the doors and now they stood just inside the Archmage's estate.

H'rit walked up beside him. "My goodness, this is all her land?"

The elderly man who had let them in nodded. "This land has belonged to the Goanyen family for almost a thousand years, and my family has served them for almost half of that," he said proudly. "Centuries ago, Lord Goanyen held the lands from here to the sea, so you are almost correct in calling it a fiefdom, young lord. This is what is left of those lands."

Jomm whistled. "Well, I can see why she didn't blink at my fee. She's filthy rich."

The gatekeeper shot him a disapproving look, and then he bowed to Xandrian and H'rit. "You are expected, my lords, and are most welcome here. If you present yourselves at the castle's main entrance my daughter - the housekeeper - will greet you and show you to your quarters." He scowled at Jomm and then pushed the massive doors shut.

"This is certainly suitable for what you need to do," H'rit commented to Xandrian as they led their horses down the narrow, gravel road that led to the castle.

"It's perfect." Xandrian already had his eye on the southwest tower; it rose high above its fellows, and he was pretty sure it afforded a sweeping view of the entire valley. While that was probably what the feudal lord of old was interested in, Xandrian was interested in its isolation from the rest of the castle. He pointed it out to H'rit. "That is where I will do it."

H'rit nodded. "Oh, yes, I agree. Kisannon was certainly right to send us here." A horn sounded behind them, its rich bellow echoing across the valley. "We're being announced, I see."

Fifteen minutes later they were being greeted by at least half the household staff. From the excitement the servants displayed, Xandrian got the impression that the estate didn't receive many visitors. He marveled at the idea that the place was continuously cared for yet only servants actually lived in it. He wondered what the Archmage's childhood must have been like, growing up titled and living in a place like this.

A passel of children were swarming around the housekeeper, begging to be allowed to carry the newcomers' things.

"Hush now," she admonished them. "If you wish to serve you must behave yourselves."

The children immediately quietened; shirts were hastily tucked in and skirts smoothed, although there was still some squirming and the occasional giggle.

The housekeeper clucked approvingly and then assigned each child to one of the regular household servants. Soon they were proudly bearing their burdens, and the two young boys charged with carrying Xandrian's and H'rit's things were wide-eyed and solemn, holding the notebooks as if they were fragile dishes.

Jomm came up behind the two mages and slipped them each a few coins. "It's customary for nobles to tip servants for good service," he murmured. "Give the main servant a dinier and the kids a couple of paniers." He walked over to the young stablehands to instruct them about the horses, and then he allowed himself to be escorted by a young maid and her tiny sister. "I would follow such lovely ladies anywhere," he declared, bowing and kissing their hands. The girls blushed and giggled as they led him away.

Xandrian rolled his eyes. "Great, a charmer." He raised a hand to H'rit as his friend was led away a young woman and her two brothers. "We'll talk after supper."

He was left with the housekeeper, a maid and the remaining boy, who was still eyeing his books with a mix of wonder and trepidation.

Xandrian opened his mouth to tell the woman his room request, but she hastily bowed and interrupted him, "My lord, Her Ladyship instructed me to give you the rooms in the southwest tower. I'm sorry, they will not be as comfortable as the quarters that I had planned to give you, but I must go by her wishes."

"It's all right," he assured her, suppressing a laugh. It figured that Kisannon would be a step ahead of him.

It was a long walk to the tower rooms - for which the housekeeper apologized again - but they soon arrived at the tower. The maid set his pack and satchel on the bed and Xandrian took his books from the boy. He gave them the money, and was amused by the child's delight over the two copper coins. He ruffled the boy's hair and then set his books on the nearby desk.

"Go on, you two," the housekeeper said. "Go to the kitchen and help Cook prepare supper for our guests." After they left she took a sealed letter from her pocket and handed it to Xandrian. "Her Ladyship's messenger brought this letter; it's for you, my lord. Supper will be ready in an hour, I will send young Mellan to fetch you." She curtsied and left.

Xandrian stood at the door and listened until the jingling of the keys on her chatelaine faded away, and then he broke the seal on the letter and began to read the Archmage's looping scrawl.

_Xan-_

_Of course I gave you the tower rooms; they are perfect for your needs, and if you wanted them as soon as you saw the place then Homis taught you well. The room above the bedchamber is fairly empty and should be the one you use for your summoning._

_My housekeeper has been instructed to behave as if your new 'servant' is an established member of my household, and she will obtain clothing for them. A horse will be provided as well._

_Keep your wits about you, and be careful if you make an Agreement. Along with this letter I've included some suggestions for how to handle the power sealing, as well as a few spells you might find useful. Keep in mind you are in a round tower - glyphs on the wall will give you an excellent third containment circle._

_I know you will succeed; you always make me proud, my dear._

_-K_

He folded the letter and tucked it away in his pocket, and then he glanced at the second page. There was a lot of good information there, and after supper Xandrian would spend the rest of the night reading and finishing going over his spells. He set the sheet of parchment with his notebook and climbed the stairs to examine the upper room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High in the southwest tower of the Archmage's castle, Xandrian acquires a new servant.

_First one done._

Xandrian eased back to sit on the floor and surveyed his morning's work. The inner circle was complete, save for the charm that would close and activate the glyphs he had carefully etched into the wood with his sandstone stylus.

He stretched, rubbing the back of his neck, and looked about the room. He couldn't have asked for a better space - even at the Collegium.

Xandrian's initial explorations the day before had led him to suspect that these had been the Archmage's personal quarters, a suspicion that had been confirmed at supper. The steward acted as their host, and when he learned that Xandrian and H'rit were Collegium students he had regaled them with stories of explosions, frozen servants and charmed furniture that moved. 'Such a smart girl she was - but always getting into trouble!' the steward had exclaimed. 'Many a night I would look up at that tower and see strange glows and mists through its windows, and to this day my children swear they all danced and played games with a demon one midsummer night. Everyone loved her, but I must admit everyone slept easier when she left for the Collegium.' The dapper old man had then raised his wineglass to the portrait of a young Kisannon that hung in the dining hall. 'And now she is the highest ranked of them all. A smart girl she was; still is I imagine.'

Xandrian snorted softly as he recalled the conversation. _Yes, she still is smart,_ he thought, _and she is still getting into trouble_. And it looked like he was going to follow in her footsteps.

Homis would have approved.

He almost felt like his master was watching while he knelt and started on the second circle. The sandstone stylus softly scritched on the ironwood floor as he began to form the glyphs. He focused on the meaning, the intention of each glyph, and sent his power into the symbols as he chanted their names.

"Benith. Ganaar. Ju'un."

_Restrain. Surround. Enclose._

"Renith. Synaaron. Dosh."

_Barrier. Constrain. Impede._

"Erriz. Mahal. Teth."

_Obstruct. Inhibit. Stop._

He finished the serif of the final glyph and then etched circumference lines above and below, leaving a gap for the activating charm.

_Second one done._

Xandrian edged away from the circle and flopped onto his back, exhausted. Not for the first time he questioned the sanity of choosing such a mentally demanding Discipline, and he wondered if this was how H'rit felt after pouring his qi into a badly injured patient. He was vaguely aware of hunger, and very aware of a brutal headache settling between his brows. Normally he would have ignored both and kept going, but Xandrian knew he needed to be careful this time. This was his first time doing a summoning since Homis' death, and he felt his master's absence keenly.

"I think I should be able to tie another Summoning knot onto my belt for this one, Master," he told the ceiling. "And an Illusion knot when I make the creature look human. Oh, and I think I will deserve a special knot for putting up with Jomm on this little trip, he's getting on my nerves already."

He rolled onto his side and pressed his temple against the ironwood floor, closing his eyes briefly as he savored the coolness beneath his cheek.

_Just a minute, and then I'll do the third circle._

When he woke the sun was casting long shadows in the room, and his stomach was loudly clamoring for food.

* * *

"So all that's left are the activating charms?" H'rit asked between spoonfuls of hearty stew. The two men sat alone at the table; Jomm was with the steward, getting additional supplies.

Xandrian nodded. "Yes. I already fashioned the clay amulet that will contain the Concealment charm. It will also hold an Agreement if necessary."

"And you're certain I can't assist you in this?"

He nodded again. "You have helped; I'm fully healed, and the extra qi you've been giving me will help keep me fully alert."

"I'll do one more infusion before you start, then." H'rit glanced at Xandrian's half-eaten stew. "You really should finish that."

"Nag, nag," Xandrian retorted, but he picked up his spoon.

"And eat some more of the bread, too."

"Yes, Mother."

A coffee-brown eyebrow rose in reproach. "You becoming light-headed from hunger midway through won't help anyone. I know I can't be in the room with you, but may I keep watch outside the door?"

Xandrian shrugged. "If you want. You can't break the circles, not if I've done them right; but if it makes you feel better go right ahead. I'll warn you, it might take all night - I have a good-sized list of known names, and I have to do a formal Summons for each name. The main risk in trying to summon a known demon is that someone might have bound them to service already. If none of them bite I will have to have to do a Beckoning." He finished his stew and bread, and then he rose from the table. "Let's go; you can do the qi treatment in my bedchamber."

The two men left the dining hall and headed to the southwest tower. Once there, Xandrian changed into a set of loose, simple robes, and H'rit lay gentle hands on his friend and sent a stream of cool, invigorating qi into his body.

"Good luck," H'rit said as he followed Xandrian up the stairs. "Be careful, Xan... be safe."

Xandrian grunted in reply and entered the upper chamber, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

"I summon thee, N'garoth, by thy True Name; heed my summons and appear. I invoke thee, N'garoth, by thy True Name; heed my summons and appear. I command thee, N'garoth, by thy True Name; heed my summons and appear!"

_Nothing. Again._

"Shit." Xandrian mopped his brow with the sleeve of his robe. It was as he had feared; all of the named demons that he had written on his list were not answering his summons. He knew his technique was correct, and the spells were properly cast - the most likely reason was that all the demons he was calling were serving other masters. Of course, there were hundreds - thousands - of named demons, but in the hurried hours before he left the Collegium Xandrian and Kisannon had only bothered with a short list of creatures whose power was adequate to their quest.

"Shit," he swore again. He took a deep breath to re-center himself. He was going to have to have to try a Beckoning now.

Xandrian stood and stretched, and then he settled back on the floor in a lotus position, palms open and facing out. He took another breath, closed his eyes and opened his mind.

"I beckon thee, O thou whose Name is unknown to me. I have a task for thee, if thou wilt Agree to it. I would ask thee to serve me, if thou wilt Consent to it. Hear my call, I beckon thee." He kept his eyes closed as he repeated the mantra. He focused on the words, wrapped them with his power and pushed them out through the Ephemera and into the Abysm to be heard.

"I beckon thee, O thou whose Name is unknown to me..."

He could sense that the words were penetrating the Ephemera, the veil that separated this world and the Abysm. _He_ was penetrating the Ephemera, and while he was still sitting on the wooden floor of the tower his consciousness was reaching beyond his physical self. Xandrian repeated the words, felt their flow, their rhythm.

"...Hear my call, I beckon thee."

The words... the flow... the rhythm... beckoning...

And then something - _someone_ \- touched his mind.

The hair on the back of his arms and neck rose, and when Xandrian opened his eyes he saw a figure begin to appear within the innermost circle. Blue-white energy crackled and hissed as vapors coalesced, and a body slowly formed before his eyes. Still translucent, the creature looked around the room, craning its neck to view the room's contents.

His every sense was alert, and Xandrian's pulse raced as he watched the creature take form. He was relieved that the demon was mostly humanoid; to cast an illusion over an animalistic or reptilian creature would require much more work and energy. Not that it looked human - its fingers and toes were tipped with long, deadly-looking claws, and elongated ears tapered to points that poked out of a long, shaggy shock of hair. Xandrian saw a muscled chest and flat abdomen, and a quick glance between the creature's legs told him he had Beckoned a male.

A relatively young male, it appeared. Young as demons go, Xandrian supposed. Judging by his sex, he was a mature adult, but he had a lean, slender build that indicated youth. He looked about half a head shorter than Xandrian; another relief, as Xandrian had summoned creatures in the past that towered above him in size and girth.

 _This one might do,_ he thought. There was certainly enough power; the demon had fully manifested, and yet flickering tendrils of energy continued to chase across his skin, lighting him with an unearthly bluish glow. Also, his relative youth and physical size would be perfect for the disguise of a young servant.

The demon finished inspecting the roof of the tower and then turned around to look at Xandrian. A slitted, golden gaze met his.

"I heard thee Beckon," the creature said. His voice was low and raspy; part growl, part purr.

"I did Beckon thee," Xandrian replied, "and I thank thee for answering my call." He relaxed the tiniest bit, and let his hands fall into his lap.

The demon watched him for a few moments, and then asked, "What is this task you spoke of?"

Xandrian told him, and as he spoke he began to secretly trace Menet, the glyph of binding while he mentally prepared a spell. When he finished, he raised his hand, pointed it at the demon and released his spell. "I bind thee, O creature of the Abysm! I command thee to tell me thy True Name!"

The demon deflected the spell with a wave of a clawed hand and laughed at him. "I will not tell thee my True Name, human - why would I give thee control over me? I shall not permit thee to bind and enslave me." He bent down and inspected the glowing yellow glyphs of the inner circle that contained him.

Xandrian was not really surprised that the spell had failed; the demon had considerable power despite his youth. He had hoped he would not have to navigate the treacherous waters of an Agreement, but it was his only solution now. "Forgive me, I shall not attempt to bind thee again. Wouldst thou make an Agreement with me, instead?" he asked, keeping to the formal cadences of the High Tongue.

The demon stood and looked past him at the window, and then to Xandrian's utter shock he walked over the first circle. The glyphs faded, leaving only a faint phosphorescence. Clawed feet touched the amber glyphs of the second circle, and the creature grunted as the wards and spells glowed brightly and rebuffed him. He frowned and moved forward again, and there was a _crack!_ as he stepped across the second circle. The glyphs darkened.

 _Shit._ Cold sweat broke out on Xandrian's brow, and he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. _Shitshitshit._ A demon had broken his inner circle before, but that had been due to Xandrian's own carelessness. He knew, he _knew_ that his glyphs and spells were good, and strong. How much stronger must this creature be? He mentally thanked Kisannon for suggesting the third circle, and he prayed to his forgotten gods that it would hold.

The demon stopped at the window, and he peered though the rippled glass panes. "It is not summer," he said.

 _What is this?_ "No," said Xandrian carefully, "it is early autumn." His heart pounded even harder when he saw the demon reach out to touch the glass. He held his breath.

The glyphs blazed crimson, their light casting stark shadows in the room. The creature hissed and staggered back. He tried again, and the circle radiated power a second time.

The wards held, shining brightly.

Xandrian breathed a sigh of relief. The relief was short-lived, however, when Xandrian realized that the demon was now completely free to move about the room, and that he was no longer separated from the creature by glyphs and spells. He felt a trickle of sweat run down inside the collar of his robes. _Focus,_ he told himself. He sensed no malevolence in the being; only... curiosity.

"If I agree to serve thee and complete thy task, I will be allowed to walk upon the earth with thee?" The demon crossed back to where Xandrian sat and plopped down on the floor to sit opposite him. He reached out and touched a lock of Xandrian's hair. "Pretty," he murmured.

Xandrian stiffened at the touch, but otherwise didn't react. "Yes, you would journey with me," he answered.

"For more than a night? More than a day?" The demon glanced wistfully at the moonlight streaming through the tower window.

"Yes. A moon, probably more."

The demon smiled, revealing sharp fangs. "That pleases me. I will make an Agreement with thee." He crossed his legs and watched Xandrian expectantly.

Xandrian reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew the small clay amulet that he had prepared that morning, as well as a small knife. He set the clay piece on the floor between them, and then he nicked his finger with the tip of the knife. A drop of blood welled up, and he let it drip onto the amulet. "This is our Agreement: Thy task shall take a moon's cycle; it is possible that it will take a second cycle. Regardless of the passage of earthly time, thy task shall be complete and thy service to me shall end when I possess the books that I seek, and hold them intact in my hands. When thy service to me ends, thou shalt return to the Abysm without delay." Xandrian formed an image of his and H'rit's spellbooks in his mind for the demon to see. "Do you Agree?"

The demon listened carefully, and then he poked a claw into his finger and let a drop of blood fall on the amulet. "I Agree." Their mingled blood soaked into the spiral that Xandrian had carved into the clay.

Xandrian winced as he felt the burn of the spiral appearing on his upper chest, just above his heart. He saw a similar mark appear on the demon's skin. He continued, "This is our Agreement: thou shalt allow me to cast an illusion upon thee, giving thee the appearance of a human. Thou shalt allow me to seal thy demonic powers until I command thee to take off this amulet, at which time thou shalt engage my enemy and help me retrieve the books I have shown thee. Do you Agree?" Another drop.

The demon frowned. "The appearance of a human?"

"Yes."

"An illusion only?"

"Yes."

His frown deepened. "I do not Agree."

Xandrian blinked. "What?" he blurted.

The demon looked at him steadily. "I do not Agree. I do not wish for thee to cast an illusion upon me. I wish for thee to make me human; I would like to walk upon the earth as a human does."

"Make you human?" Xandrian repeated. He'd never heard of a demon wanting to actually become a human. Possess one, yes; Be an illusion of one, yes. But _become_ one?

"Yes," the demon replied. He tapped the amulet with a claw and growled, "Make the Agreement."

Xandrian forgot himself and huffed, "Bossy little shit - give me a minute." He mentally ran through the spells at his disposal, relieved when he realized he could modify a metamorphosis spell to transform the creature into human form. "This is our Agreement: thou shalt allow me to cast a metamorphosis upon thee, and transform thy corporeal body to that of a human. Along with the transformation thou shalt allow me to seal thy demonic powers until I command thee to honor thy agreement and take off this amulet, at which time thou shalt engage my enemy and help me retrieve the books I have shown thee. Do you Agree?"

A toothy grin, more blood. "I Agree."

More burning on Xandrian's skin as a triangle copied itself onto his skin, on top of the spiral. He opened his mouth to continue, but the demon raised a hand to silence him.

The creature reached out and carefully scratched three lines into the clay. "This is our Agreement," he said, "Thou shalt provide sustenance and shelter for me, and thou shalt not beat me. I will be thy servant and obey thy commands, but I will not be thy slave. Do you Agree?" He squeezed another splash of blood onto the clay.

Xandrian hastily reviewed the demon's words to make sure there was nothing to trick him or entrap him. Satisfied, he allowed a third drop of his blood to fall. "I Agree," he said, and the three lines appeared on his skin, over the triangle. He then stated his last stipulation. "This is our Agreement: the task I request of thee is to assist me to defeat my enemy and to retrieve the books that I have shown thee. Thou shalt assist me with the best of thy ability, and I shall ask no other task of thee. Thy service is provided in exchange for thy time in human form on the earth, and thou shalt not require any additional payment from me. Do you Agree?" The final drop of his blood landed on the amulet.

The demon considered his words. After a moment he smiled, and shed one last droplet. "I Agree." Twin circles appeared, enclosing the collage of symbols into a single mark on their chests.

"Our Agreement is complete," Xandrian said, and then he touched the amulet and murmured a sealing-spell. A small ball of fire engulfed the piece of clay, and the amulet shimmered in the flames. When the fire died away Xandrian gave it a minute to cool and then he ran a length of leather cord through the hole he had created at the top. He held it up and examined it; the piece was now an iridescent copper color, and its symbols were a deep garnet red. He pulled the collar of his robe aside and peered at his chest; an identical symbol was there. It looked almost like a tattoo, except it had the same crimson color as the original. He glanced at the demon, who was inspecting his mark as well.

The creature looked up and grinned. "Wilt thou make me human now?"

Xandrian wearily rose to his feet. "Yes," he said. "Let me get a drink first." He crossed over to the room's lone table and poured himself a cup of water, mentally thanking H'rit for putting a pitcher there. He drank it down, then poured himself another cupful. As he drank he was aware of the demon's shining gaze watching his every move.

"When I am human I will drink too," he said. "And eat, and sleep, and-"

"Piss and shit and everything else that comes with it," Xandrian finished for him. He walked back over and helped the demon to his feet. "All right now, stand here," Xandrian said, and guided him to the faint yellow marks of the inner circle. "And stay in the goddamn circle this time." He fastened the amulet around the creature's neck.

The demon obeyed, remaining still while Xandrian drew glyphs on his skin and chanted the spells of transformation. The mage circled him three times, drew more glyphs and then walked around him three times in the opposite direction. He then traced over all the glyphs one last time, and repeated the spells.

"I seal and hide thy powers until I call for them," Xandrian said, touching the amulet with one hand and the demon's forehead with the other. "I change thy body to that of a human." Ears slowly shortened, and claws and fangs retracted. The demon softly whimpered, but kept still as Xandrian continued. "Beat, heart, and breathe, lungs. Organs, fulfill thy office; senses, expand. Close thy eyes, demon," he commanded.

The creature obeyed. His body shook as the glyphs flashed a vivid green and raced across his body in a glowing blur, and he let out a low, keening moan. One by one the glyphs winked out.

"Open your eyes, human." Xandrian watched as the young man's eyelids fluttered open. Gone were slitted pupils and molten gold irises; now, eyes the color of warm summer honey met his. The youth's eyelids fluttered again, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Xandrian let out a long, ragged breath. He had done it! He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep too, but he knew that H'rit was waiting patiently outside the door. He removed the charms from the floor and wall, and then he picked up the sleeping youth in his arms and carried him to the door. "H'rit," he called, "It's done, you can open the door."

His friend pushed the door open, and he gaped at Xandrian's naked, sleeping burden. "Xan! You did it!"

"Yes, yes, congratulate me later," Xandrian said irritably. "Help me get him downstairs, he's heavy."

"Yes, of course."

The two men brought the young man downstairs, worked him into a nightshirt, and then made a makeshift pallet of blankets on the floor next to Xandrian's bed. Xandrian lowered him onto the blankets and drew a coverlet over him. He was startled by H'rit's hand on his shoulder.

"Come, sit and have a glass of wine."

Xandrian collapsed into one of the overstuffed chairs and accepted a glass of wine from his friend.

"To success," said H'rit.

"To success," Xandrian repeated, and they touched their glasses together. They nursed their wine while Xandrian related the events of the evening.

"I can't imagine how you must have felt when he simply walked across those two ward circles," H'rit commented as he refilled their glasses. "Thank all the gods that the third one held, and that he didn't seem interested in escaping and rampaging."

Xandrian shook his head. "I never once sensed any malevolence in him. He's young - for a demon - and curious. The brat was quite insistent on being fully transformed; he wanted no parts of an illusion."

H'rit sipped his wine and watched the covers rise and fall with the sleeper's breathing. "You need to name him," he said. "He must be passed off as a member of the household staff, and the steward and housekeeper will need to know what to call him. And the housekeeper will need to procure clothes for him."

"We'll need another horse, too," said Xandrian. He watched the sleeping youth for a few minutes while he finished his wine. "Ask the housekeeper to visit me in the morning, and have her bring breakfast - I imagine our new human will be hungry when he wakes up." He stood and stretched, and a loud yawn escaped him.

"Will do," H'rit said, and he rose from his chair. He set his wineglass on the table and then clapped Xandrian on the back. "To bed with you, my friend, for some truly deserved rest. I will see both of you in the morning - I am looking forward to properly meeting our new friend." He left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Xandrian locked the door and then changed into a nightshirt before crawling gratefully into the bed. Turning off the oil lamp, he lay in the darkness and listened to the soft snores of the young man sleeping on the floor next to his bed. The regular, even breathing began to lull him to sleep.

In the last moments before exhaustion took him, a name presented itself.

"Gerren," Xandrian murmured, and he slept.

_tbc..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travel on the Pilgrim's Road begins, and Xandrian finds Gerren's inquisitiveness both annoying and... revealing.

"Gerren," declared the young man proudly in response to H ’rit’s inquiry. He clumsily applied butter and jam to his last biscuit and took a large bite.

H'rit nodded his approval. "That's a very good name." He glanced over at Xandrian, who was drinking his tea and ignoring his breakfast. "It means 'of the earth', am I right?"

Xandrian grunted in reply.

"I like it," Gerren said. "I like your name too, and Xandrian's." He finished his biscuit and looked down at his empty plate, and then he gazed longingly at the uneaten food on Xandrian's plate. "May I have that" - he paused to get the correct word - "breakfast, Xandrian? My body still wants more food." He rubbed at his stomach though the over-sized nightshirt he wore.

Xandrian slid his plate over. "Have at it. Not too fast, though, or you'll get sick. And if you get sick you'll have to clean yourself up - that is not part of our Agreement."

"Thank you!" Gerren attacked the pile of scrambled eggs.

H'rit sat down at the small table and accepted a cup of tea from Xandrian. "It's really quite remarkable," he said quietly. "Did you create his appearance?"

"No," Xandrian replied. "Aside from ears, eyes, fangs and claws, his semblance didn't really change all that much. He was wilder looking, of course, but I guess you could say this is his human... version."

H'rit watched Gerren move on to devouring the biscuits on the plate. "I wonder how old he is; in this human form I would place him somewhere between eighteen and twenty. He acts a bit younger right now, but I imagine that is due to his inexperience."

Xandrian shrugged. "A few centuries, perhaps. His curiosity about earth and humans definitely works in our favor - at least we don't have to deal with a sullen servant. And his human form was the only payment he requested."

There was a knock at the door. Xandrian rose to admit the housekeeper, and he introduced her to Gerren. From her lack of fear Xandrian figured that Kisannon must have have spun some fanciful tale about how Xandrian transported the young man to the castle.

She held out a hand and said, "Come on, my lad. We'll cut that mountain of hair and get you washed up and properly clothed."

Gerren looked at Xandrian, and the mage nodded. Gerren stuffed the last biscuit in his mouth, got up from his chair and took the woman's hand.

"Good lad." She turned to Xandrian. "I'll take care of provisioning him, my lord, and I’ll present him to you when you and your companions are ready to depart later this morning. Come on, boy," she said, and she tugged at Gerren's hand and pulled him into the hallway.

"I'm Gerren."

"Well, come on then, Gerren."

“What’s your name?”

The door closed behind them, and the two men listened to them until their chatter faded away.

H'rit gathered the dishes onto the tray for the maid to collect. "He's a chatty one. You aren't worried that he will accidentally tell everyone what he truly is?"

Xandrian handed him his empty cup. "He can't; I built a geis into the transformation that will physically prevent him from speaking about his true nature to anyone but you and I. I don't want to risk weakening the geis, however, so both of us should make sure that we don't tell others. Even Jomm... especially Jomm, actually. I don't want to find out that he's afraid of demons and then have him refuse to lead us further. Gerren's inquisitiveness and naivete can be explained by him being on his first journey - and we can truthfully say that he came from this remote estate." He headed toward the stairs, and then turned back toward H'rit. "I need to wash away the glyph circles - can you help? When we're done I suppose we should pack up and find Jomm - he wanted us to be on our way no later than noon, and I don't want to hear him bitching about me causing a delay."

"Of course." H'rit set his cup down and followed his friend up the stairway.

Two hours later, they were standing outside the castle with their things. Jomm and a stablehand walked over to them, each man leading two horses.

"I was told you're bringing a servant?" Jomm asked Xandrian. "Are you sure that’s a smart idea? This is not exactly a pleasure trip."

Xandrian scowled at him. He didn't like being second-guessed, much less by Sir Traveler's Wisdom. "Kisannon arranged it; I was told that you knew about it. I'm sure you'll appreciate having him along - H'rit and I will need to spend a lot of our time in study and preparation, and our servant will be able to help you with the horses and everyone's gear."

"Besides," H'rit added, "we _are_ supposed to be nobles on a pilgrimage, and having a servant along is expected."

"You have a point," Jomm conceded. "Well, he'd better pull his weight."

The men loaded up their horses, and Xandrian had to suffer Jomm's advice on the best way to tie the packs to the saddle.

"Xandrian!"

All three men turned around. Gerren was smiling as he hurried toward them, laden with his gear, and he was followed by the housekeeper. He set his packs on the ground and then stood still, arms stretched wide. "Look at my new clothes!"

The woman had done an excellent job. Gerren's wild mane was gone, and although his chestnut hair was still unruly, it was freshly washed and expertly cut to just above the nape of his neck. He wore the simple garb of a servant - linen shirt, wool breeches and a plain leather jerkin. The clothes were a mix of greens and browns, and they suited him very well.

"A handsome lad, is he not?" she asked with a laugh, and then she ruffled Gerren's hair. "He cleaned up well."

Xandrian pointed to Jomm. "Gerren, that's Jomm. He'll show you how to ready your mount. Go on," he told Gerren, and gave him a small push in Jomm's direction. Xandrian walked over to the woman. "Thank you for your help," he said. "I will be sure to compliment the Archmage on the hospitality you have shown us in her stead."

"Our pleasure, my lord. We wish you good journey." she curtsied and returned inside.

He turned back to his companions, and when he mounted his horse he glanced over at Gerren. The young man was perched atop his pony, and he was grinning from ear to ear. Xandrian pulled up alongside him. "What are you smiling about?"

"I'm on a horse! I'm on a horse," Gerren patted the beast's neck, "and he isn't afraid of me." He tilted his head back and gazed at the sky. "It is day, there is the sun and the sky and I am walking on the earth." He fingered the amulet that hung around his neck.

"You're riding on a horse," Xandrian corrected, amused. "The horse is the one walking on the earth right now." He reached over and tucked the amulet inside Gerren's shirt. "Keep this beneath your shirt. It should remain hidden, if possible - as well as the mark we both bear." Xandrian felt smooth, warm skin beneath his fingertips, and a steady, living heartbeat. He pulled his hand away.

"Let's get going," he told Jomm.

* * *

The sun was warm on his shoulders, the horse warm and living beneath him. Gerren drew in a breath, delighting in how the air was cool and dry when it entered his body, and warm and damp when it exited.

He breathed in a deep breath, then a shallow one. He held his breath until his lungs demanded air, and when that made his heart race he rested his hand against his chest and felt his heartbeat thumping against his fingers. Then he hugged the pony’s neck and listened to its heartbeat and breathing, and smiled as he felt its coarse coat ripple and twitch beneath his cheek.

Gerren put his fingers against his wrist and felt his pulse tap against his fingertips, and repeated the action for the pulse at his throat.

It was _wonderful._ It had been more than half a century since the last time he had walked outside the Abysm, and that had been only for a solitary night, in his true form. Now he was going to be living on this plane for at least a moon's cycle, and - even better - living as a human. Gerren was glad he had answered the mage's Beckoning, and so far he was very pleased with their Agreement.

He studied the men who rode with him.

Despite Xandrian's slender frame and delicate features, Gerren sensed strong power in him, and a strong mind and will as well. He liked that Xandrian had not been afraid of him the night before, when Gerren had broken through his two containment circles. He smiled to himself as he recalled the shocked expression on the man's face. Xandrian had been wary and careful with him, but he had shown no fear - not even when Gerren had touched him.

He was beautiful, too, with his golden blond hair and strange-colored eyes. Violet, the housekeeper had called them. Gerren liked pretty things, and both Xandrian's beauty and power had drawn him out of the shadows of the Abysm like a bright beacon.

The other mage, H'rit, had power too. It was a different power from Xandrian's, though; its energy was more peaceful and regenerative. Gerren could tell that their magic was not the same, and that H'rit could not have Beckoned him or Agreed with him. He enjoyed watching the two men converse with each other as they rode along the dirt tracks of the Pilgrim's Road. Their looks were a pleasing contrast, as H'rit was dark-haired and had eyes the color of moss. There was contrast to their personalities too; Xandrian was irritable and moody, while H'rit had a calm and patient demeanor. Despite the differences in their personalities, there was an ease to their interaction that told Gerren the two men knew each other well, and were comrades.

Gerren did not sense that same ease with the third man, the redheaded tracker. He decided that Jomm must be a stranger to the other men, even though he was the one leading the way. The man had no magic to him, but he was skilled in many things that the two mages were not. Gerren had the distinct impression that this was Xandrian's and H'rit's first time on a journey, since Jomm was telling them how to do things too.

Jomm seemed to really like telling people how to do things, and he especially liked telling Gerren what to do. Xandrian had explained that only he and H'rit knew Gerren's true nature, and that everyone else - Jomm included - thought that Gerren was Xandrian's servant. Which he was, technically, within the terms of their Agreement, but Jomm behaved like Gerren was _his_ servant too, and Gerren did not care for that.

He found it amusing that Xandrian didn't like Jomm telling him what to do either.

The late afternoon sun peeked out from behind a bank of clouds and bathed the land in reds and golds. Gerren's breath caught in his throat at beauty of the sight. _I will watch the sun set tonight,_ he thought, _and I will sleep and then tomorrow I shall watch it rise._ He smiled. He was looking forward to sleeping, and wondered if he would dream.

"Gerren! Stop daydreaming and keep your horse moving!" Jomm rode over to him and gave the pony a gentle swat. "I want us in the next town by sunset. You don't want to miss supper, do you?"

"Supper?" Gerren blinked and looked over at Xandrian.

"The evening meal," the mage told him.

"Oh, yes - I would like to have a supper!" Gerren had thoroughly enjoyed his other two meals, and now there would be a third?

Jomm snorted. "Well, keep moving, then." He maneuvered his stallion back up the road, and as he passed Xandrian he jerked a thumb back at Gerren and asked, "Where the hell did you find him, that he doesn't even know what supper is?" He laughed. "You sure know how to pick servants."

"Shut up, Jomm," Xandrian said.

* * *

They were little over two weeks traveling on the Pilgrim's Road, and Xandrian was beginning to regret the 'no beating' part of his Agreement with Gerren.

It seemed like not a day had passed when the converted demon hadn't leaped off his horse in order to run over and inspect some new-found wonder. During their second morning on the road Gerren had run like a madman through a field of wildflowers and returned covered in pollen, which had made Xandrian sneeze for the rest of the afternoon. Two days later when they passed a large lake, both he _and_ the pony had jumped in, leaving both of them - and Gerren’s gear - completely soaked. And three days ago Gerren had climbed a tall tree while they stopped to eat their midday meal, and when he accidentally knocked down a wasp's nest it had left them all badly stung. Jomm was still bitching about that incident, even though H'rit had quickly healed them all.

Gerren was not taking well to Jomm ordering him about, either. Of course, as far the tracker was concerned Gerren was a lowly servant who could be pressed into any menial labor Jomm didn't feel like doing. Xandrian was tempted to tell Jomm about Gerren - just to enjoy the man's reaction - but he was reluctant to interfere with the geis that prevented Gerren from accidentally revealing information about his true nature. 

So he had to put up with not only their bickering, but also Jomm's lectures about how unruly servants should be properly dealt with.

Today's wonder was going to be the waterfall ahead of them, Xandrian was sure of it. It hadn't been visible when they first entered the wooded valley, but they were able to hear the roar of the water and when they came to a small clearing Gerren gasped and pointed over at the cascading water that thundered from high above the wall of rock to their left.

"H'rit! What's that?"

"It's a waterfall, Gerren." H'rit answered, and then he explained the geology to him while Gerren stared open-mouthed at the rushing water. 

Xandrian decided that his friend was enjoying his role of teacher a little too much. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's just water moving vertically," he said in an effort to quell the lesson. "Let's keep moving."

"But it's beautiful!"

Jomm snorted. "Did they keep the brat in the dungeon? He acts like he's never seen anything before. I hope you didn't pay a lot for him, Xandrian - he's not very bright."

"Shut up, Jomm," Gerren said with a low growl. "I have seen many things. Things that even you have not seen. I just could not touch some of them."

"Yeah, like you touched those chickens at the last inn we stayed at - that innkeeper will be lucky if they ever lay eggs again. How much extra did he charge us for that, Xandrian?"

"I didn't hurt them!" Gerren protested. "I just wanted to touch their feathers, so that I could know what they felt like."

Xandrian watched him stroke a small white feather that he had attached to the leather pouch he wore on his belt. Xandrian knew that inside the pouch were Gerren's 'treasures' - small rocks and other items found on the roadside - and he found it fascinating that the demon was collecting these objects, almost as souvenirs. "You should have asked permission first," he told Gerren. "Those chickens belonged to the innkeeper, and you mustn't touch things that belong to other people. He had to buy eggs to feed his patrons because you upset the chickens and they wouldn't lay their own eggs."

"I'm sorry." Gerren looked longingly at the waterfall. He pointed at it again. "Does that belong to other people? The fallwater?"

"Waterfall," H'rit corrected.

"Of course not,'" Xandrian answered. "What does that have to do-"

Xandrian was interrupted by a loud whoop from Gerren. The young man hopped off his horse and ran toward the water, shedding every stitch of clothing along the way. His now riderless pony ambled over to the pool at the cascade's base and began to drink.

"What the hell are you doing?" Xandrian yelled.

Jomm and H'rit both laughed. "Well, Xan, you berated him the other day about jumping into that lake with his clothes on," H'rit pointed out. "He's obviously learning."

"Learning what? A lack of modesty?"

"Let him be, Xandrian," said Jomm. He got down from his horse and gathered their water skins. "There's good water here, we can let the horses drink and I'll fill our skins while he frolics a bit."

The mage huffed and dismounted, and then he walked his mare to the pool's edge to let her drink her fill. Gerren's laughter made him look up, and Xandrian saw the young man standing naked beneath the cascading water, his arms outstretched. Gerren's hair was plastered against his head, and he was sticking out his tongue, trying to catch some of the falling liquid.

While he stood by his horse Xandrian watched the display, and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to stand under that torrent of water, to let it course over his bare skin and feel it pounding against his body. Xandrian had only seen colored drawings of waterfalls in books, and he almost wished that the other two men weren't there, so that he too could shed his clothes and feel the water's power on his own body.

Xandrian's gaze was drawn to the water running in rivulets down Gerren's chest; it trickled along the valleys of his taut abdomen and then down, lower still, between his muscled thighs.

His body was perfect.

Xandrian looked away, his mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed hard and tugged on the mare's reins to coax her away from the water. "Gerren, come out now and get dressed," he called, turning away so that he would not have to see Gerren's nudity again.

H'rit joined him. "I have only seen such a thing in our schoolbooks," he said. "Remember when we were young and we looked through the geography books and promised ourselves that we would see those wonders for ourselves?"

"I remember," Xandrian said, and he took a chance and looked back at the cascading water. Fortunately, it was now Gerren-free, so he was able to appreciate the vista without distraction.

"It's an amazing sight. I can only imagine what goes through Gerren's mind when he sees these things, for he had no books to look at."

Xandrian glanced over at Gerren, who had finished fastening his breeches and was now tugging on his shirt. "I don't know. I get the impression that sometimes he has been able to view our plane from the Abysm, although most likely from afar."

H'rit was watching Gerren too, and he smiled. "Perhaps he made the very same promise to himself, who knows how many decades or centuries ago. It’s been fascinating to watch him experience life on this plane, and I must say that in this form he has a very agreeable personality."

Xandrian said nothing. While H’rit obviously enjoyed answering the young man’s constant stream of questions, Xandrian sometimes found Gerren’s talkativeness exhausting.

"Xandrian!" Gerren ran over to him. "Look what I found in the water!" He held out his hand, and nestled in his damp palm were two rounded, perfectly clear stones. "They look like drops of water, but they are hard!"

Jomm poked his head over Gerren's shoulder. "Well, look at that! Those are called 'river gems' - they’re bits of quartz rock that have been tumbled and polished by the river's flow. Now _that_ is a treasure worth keeping in that bag of yours."

"River gems," Gerren repeated, smiling. He tucked one in his pouch, and then he reached out and took Xandrian's hand. "Here, I got this one for you," he said, and he placed the second, larger stone in Xandrian's palm.

"Go get your horse, Gerren," Jomm said. Gerren obeyed him and went to retrieve the wandering animal, who was contentedly munching on a patch of grass.

Xandrian held up the stone. It was almost the size of the upper part of his thumb, and it sparkled in the sunlight like a drop of captured dew.

"It's very unusual to find a larger stone this clear," Jomm remarked. "Usually they're no bigger than a fingernail, and they got their nickname because people would have them cut and set into jewelry. Quartz is plentiful in this valley, and there are even a few caves near here that have formations of it, but the big 'river gems' are hard to find these days. Gerren must have found them right at the base of the waterfall." He reached over and touched the stone's smooth, clear surface. "This is a gift of considerable value, Xandrian."

"He doesn't know it has value, to him it's just another pretty 'treasure'," Xandrian retorted. He glanced over at Jomm. "You said there are caves nearby with quartz formations?" he asked.

The tracker nodded. "There's one not too far off the Pilgrim's Road, we'll pass it tomorrow." He jerked a thumb at Gerren. "He'd like it," he said, and he mounted his horse and then headed over to round up the other two men.

"I would like it too," Xandrian murmured, and he thumbed the smooth crystal before he carefully tucked it away in a pocket. He climbed back on his mare and followed the others out of the clearing, and for once he didn’t mind Gerren’s excited chatter.

  
_tbc..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having musicians at their inn makes for a boisterous evening, and while Gerren wants in on the fun, not everyone else does.

As far as Gerren was concerned, the best time of the day was when they entered the village or town where they would stay for the night. They almost always arrived in the late afternoon, and the streets would be bustling with activity; merchants were finishing the day's business and closing up their shops, villagers were making last-minute purchases, and everywhere, _everywhere_ was the intoxicating aroma of hundreds of suppers being prepared.

Supper was Gerren's favorite meal; breakfast was usually a rushed affair, for Jomm was always eager to get them back on the Pilgrim's Road to ride through every last bit of daylight. The midday meal consisted of stopping in a pleasant spot on the side of the road and eating cold meats and cheeses that had been packed for them that morning. Gerren usually ate these meals quickly so that he could explore the surrounding area while the other men finished eating and took a brief nap.

But supper... all four of them welcomed the last meal of the day. After heading to the baths and washing off the grime of the road, they would all sit down at a table in the dining hall and enjoy a hot, leisurely meal. The others would talk about the day, or make plans for the next, and Gerren would sip at the single cup of ale that Xandrian would allow him and watch all the people that filled the room with lively chatter.

Tonight was especially entertaining - some musicians were also staying at the inn, and after some little coaxing and the promise of free beer the men took out their instruments and started to play. Gerren was captivated by the music, and when people began to dance to the lively songs he quickly finished his meal and got up from the table.

Xandrian glanced up at him. "Where are you going?" he asked.

Gerren pointed to the circle of laughing dancers. "I want to dance to the music, like those people are," he said. He tugged at Xandrian's sleeve. "Come, dance with me."

Xandrian frowned at him and shook his arm free of Gerren's grasp. "I don’t dance. You go."

Gerren scowled at him. Xandrian wasn't even enjoying the music - instead he was acting as if it made his head hurt. Gerren had learned that when Xandrian pinched his nose his head hurt. But how could music hurt? He turned to Jomm. "Jomm, you know everything - come teach me how to do this dance."

"Sure, why not?" Jomm drained his glass and stood up. "Come on then, let's go." He led Gerren into the crowd.

The dancing was wonderful! Gerren quickly learned the steps that Jomm showed him, and soon he was hopping, leaping and stomping right along with the others. After a bit Jomm left him to return to their table, but Gerren stayed and danced to one song after another. He drank in the way the music flowed around them all, and he loved how it made everyone around him laugh and smile and move together as one.

He glanced over at Xandrian, and found the mage watching him intently. Gerren waved at him and gestured for him to join him, but Xandrian shook his head and looked away. Moments later, though, he felt the mage's gaze on him once again.

After a few more songs the musicians stopped and pleaded for a rest. The crowd applauded them, and the dancers shook hands or clapped each other on the back in appreciation. The two young girls on either side of Gerren pressed their lips to his cheeks and ran off, giggling. He touched a flushed cheek and wondered at their gesture. He made his way back to the table, where he saw H'rit and Jomm applauding him.

"Well done, Gerren!" said H'rit. He handed Gerren a cool cup of water, which Gerren gulped gratefully.

Jomm clapped him on the back as he walked by. "Look at you, a ladies' man already! Those two lasses were certainly enjoying your company."

Gerren laughed. "They were very nice. That was fun!" He plopped onto the bench next to Xandrian. "I wish you would have danced with me, Xandrian, you would have had fun too."

"I doubt it." Xandrian finished his ale and set the empty tankard down with a loud _thunk_. He rose from his seat. "I'm going upstairs," he said, and left the room without another word.

Gerren watched him go, and then he turned to face the other two men. "Why is he angry?"

"Because he's a tight-ass who doesn't know how to have fun." Jomm gave a dismissive wave in Xandrian’s direction.

"Jomm," chided H'rit, "Not everyone likes to dance, and some people don't know how. I don't."

Jomm pointed at Gerren. "He didn't know, either! But he wanted to learn, and went out there anyway. And he tried twice to get Lord Sunshine to join him."

H'rit slowly rotated his cup and sighed. "I'm afraid neither one of us is a social creature - you'll remember, Jomm, that I refused to join _you_. And Xandrian is a serious person, although perhaps too much so. This might be a pleasant journey for both of you, but for us it is a daily reminder of what we have lost."

Gerren touched H'rit's arm. "Was it bad that I danced, H'rit? Did I do wrong?" Xandrian hadn't looked angry when he had been watching Gerren dance, but he had left abruptly, with a frown on his face.

"You did nothing wrong, Gerren," H'rit reassured him. "If I had to hazard a guess, I think he was reminded of the times when there were feasts at the Collegium, and Homis would try and coax him to come dance, just like you did."

"Homis?"

"His master. Homis loved to dance." H'rit looked down at the table and fiddled with his fork. "My master did too. I would dance with her - the best I could, anyway, but Xandrian always refused."

Jomm yawned widely. "So he was always this much fun at a feast."

H'rit smiled and finished his ale. "Let's just say that we both prefer the quiet of study and meditation," he suggested. "You obviously prefer the boisterous conviviality of taverns."

Jomm grinned. "Looks like our Gerren prefers that too," he said, and he winked at Gerren and reached over to ruffle his hair.

Gerren grinned at him; for once he and Jomm were in agreement.

"I think the world would be a boring place if we all liked the same things," H'rit commented.

"Amen to that!" Jomm clinked his tankard against H'rit's and drained the contents. He waved the serving-girl over and paid her. "As much as I would love to stay and try once more to get you to dance with me, friend H'rit," Jomm said, "I think we'd all best be off to bed - Gerren's face is going to split in two if he yawns any wider."

"What?" Gerren snapped his mouth shut and covered it with his hands. He did not want to break his face!

Jomm laughed at him. "You are far too easy to tease, my young friend." He rose and then hauled Gerren to his feet. "Go on, go join your grumpy master."

It took a few minutes for Gerren to reach the stairs; the dining hall had become even more crowded, and he was jostled as he made his way through the sea of laughing patrons.

He yawned again as he climbed the worn wooden steps, and he was relieved that his face did not split. It was hard dealing with Jomm sometimes; the tracker liked to make fun of the things Gerren didn't know, and Gerren never knew whether what Jomm told him was truth or was doing what H'rit called 'teasing'.

He did not like Jomm's teasing. Jomm teased Xandrian too, and Gerren could tell that Xandrian didn't like it either, because the mage always scowled when Jomm called him different names and made jokes about how pretty he was.

Gerren had noticed that Jomm did not tease H'rit that way.

He reached the room he shared with Xandrian, and quietly let himself in. "Hello, Xandrian," he said. The mage was in his bed, reading a book, and Gerren saw that his pallet had already been readied on the floor. He slipped off his boots, fished his nightshirt out of his pack and began to untie his shirt.

"Go wash first," said Xandrian, not looking up from his book.

Gerren paused, his fingers on the leather laces. "But I washed my body earlier. We all did, right before supper."

"Yes, but then you danced around like a lunatic for over two hours. I don't want to smell the stink of your sweat all night, so go clean up. Take your nightshirt with you, and give your clothes to the bath-servant to have them washed."

"Oh. All right," Gerren said, and he picked up the nightshirt and headed down the long hallway and then clomped down the back stairs to the baths. He _was_ all sweaty, he realized; his clothes were damp with it. He quickly washed himself and donned his nightshirt, and then he gave the bundle of clothing to the yawning boy who had drawn his hot water.

He shivered on the way back to their room; the night had grown chilly and the wooden floor was cold under his bare feet. He re-entered the room and dived under the pile of blankets on his pallet. "I am clean again," he said.

"Good."

"Xandrian, are you angry with me for dancing?"

The mage put down his book then, and glanced down at Gerren. "No, of course not."

"Why did you leave?"

"Because it was unbearably noisy down there. I prefer quiet, and I wanted to study."

"It was fun tonight. I liked all the noise - it was happy noise, laughing and singing."

"People like different things, Gerren. Just because you like something doesn't mean there's something wrong with me when I don't like it as well."

Gerren plumped his pillow to make it more comfortable. "H'rit said something like that after you left."

"H'rit is a wise man. Now go to sleep." Xandrian returned his attention to his book.

Gerren lay on his pallet and watched Xandrian read. The light from the oil lamp next to the bed made the mage's hair glow like burnished gold, and Gerren found it fascinating to watch the flickering shadows cast by the lamp's flame.

He really wanted to touch Xandrian's hair again. It looked so pretty, and he wondered if it was soft.

If it was, Gerren thought, it would be the only soft thing about the man. The rest of Xandrian was hard; his words, his manner and the frowns and scowls of his expressions. It wasn't that he was unkind, really; it was more that he simply wasn't kind.

H'rit was kind; Jomm was too, in his bossy and know-all way. Gerren liked them both, although he liked H'rit more - the healer was always very patient with his questions and seemed to enjoy teaching Gerren about his surroundings. And H'rit did not tease him.

Gerren liked Xandrian best, though. It wasn't because he was the one who Beckoned to him, and Agreed with him; it also wasn't because the mage was beautiful to him - although all of those things were true.

He found Xandrian much more interesting than the other two men. So much was hidden beneath the hardness, and every now and then Gerren would get a glimpse of Xandrian's true self. It was almost like he too was under a spell of concealment, but it was self-inflicted. While the mage was gruff and frequently complained about Gerren's impromptu excursions, the converted demon noted that Xandrian never stopped him. And Xandrian was not solicitous like H'rit was, but Gerren realized that he didn't need to be, because Xandrian seemed to always know what he wanted or needed and provided it usually before Gerren could ask.

He was pretty sure that Xandrian had made up an excuse to stop at the opening in the earth - the cave - the other day, so that Gerren could go inside and marvel at the sparkling stone points hanging from the cave's ceiling, and then call his name and hear it repeat and repeat through the dark rocky depths. And maybe it was for Xandrian to be able to marvel too; Gerren had caught a glimpse of a smile on the mage’s normally stony face, and he had seen Xandrian pick up several pieces of the sparkling rock.

Xandrian had given him one of the pieces that night at the inn. 'For your treasures,' he'd said.

So perhaps there was kindness in him - it was just more work to see it beneath the hard shell that surrounded the mage.

He wondered if Xandrian's skin was soft too.

Now and then Gerren would notice that there was a... grayness that surrounded Xandrian as well, something that dampened his aura and lessened its vitality. When Xandrian had shown Gerren the images of the books in his mind the night of the Beckoning, Gerren had peeked beyond, into his memories, and had seen death and injury. Was that the cause of the gray that cloaked him? What was it, anyway?

The gray seemed stronger tonight, and Gerren felt an irresistible need to know. "Xandrian?"

The mage let out a small huff and looked down at where Gerren lay. "What is it now?"

"You're... gray. Why is that?"

Blond eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"You're gray. The aura around you... it has been dampened by something, and it does not shine brightly. H'rit is gray too. Jomm is not gray, Jomm's aura is very bright." He plucked at his blanket. "What is it? Is it because of when that man died? The smiling man that I saw in your mind?"

Xandrian almost dropped his book, and his frown deepened as he hissed, "What do you know about that? Have you been poking around in my head, you little shit?" He reached down and grabbed at the collar of Gerren's nightshirt.

Gerren shook his head vigorously. "N-no! No - when you showed me the books in your mind, I saw him. I saw him through your eyes, and there was another man, a dark man. The smiling man was dead, and you were... broken."

"I was badly injured." Xandrian released him and leaned back against his pillows.

"The dark man... is he the one we are going to see? Your enemy?"

"Yes."

"What is the gray, Xandrian?"

The mage heaved a sigh and flung his arm above his head, letting the back of his hand cover his eyes. "I... grief, I guess. Sadness."

"Grief?"

"Yes. Grief is when someone dies and you are sad that they died. You miss them, and part of you is empty because they are gone."

Something was different about Xandrian's voice now, it was thicker somehow, and the gray around him was stronger.

"Does H'rit grieve too? For the smiling man?"

Xandrian shook his head. "He grieves, but not for Homis. He grieves for his lover Kanera - she was also killed by the 'dark man'."

Gerren figured ‘lover’ meant ‘mate’; H'rit missed his dead mate. "Was the smiling man - Homis? - your lover?"

"Of course not!" Xandrian snapped, and he glared at Gerren from beneath his fingers. He sighed again. "I'm sorry, you don't know any better. No, Homis was my master - my teacher - but he was also my father; he found me when I was a small child and took care of me, he raised me like a son."

"Father... is this like mother?" Gerren knew mother. Mother had been warm and soft and he had felt... empty when she was no longer beside him.

"Yes, mostly. He was both mother and father to me; my mother was dead when he found me."

Gerren digested what he had been told. If father was like mother, that meant that the emptiness Gerren had felt was grief. He wondered briefly if he had been gray then. "I'm sorry that he is dead," he said.

"Thank you, Gerren." Xandrian leaned over and shut off the oil lamp, plunging the room into darkness. "Go to sleep now."

Gerren burrowed deeper under his blankets and listened to Xandrian's breathing. It took a long time for the mage to relax; Gerren could sense the tension in him, and the strong emotion that was being held in check. It was yet another intriguing thing that was hidden beneath hardness; Xandrian had very strong emotions for his dead master-father, although Gerren didn't understand why he chose to keep those emotions so deep inside him.

He tried to picture Xandrian laughing and dancing, and he nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of the thought. Gerren remembered the mage's small smile in the cave the other day and he decided he liked that much better. He'd also liked the quiet, intense way Xandrian had watched him tonight, as well as the warmth that had sparked low in his belly whenever he had noticed the mage's gaze on him.

Remembering the watching made the warmth return, and Gerren felt it harden his flesh. He brushed a hand over his stirring member and idly considered giving himself pleasure, but the evening's exertions had made him very sleepy. He yawned, rolled over onto his side, and quickly fell asleep.

He dreamed of music and dancing again; although this time it was midsummer and he was in his true form, naked and cavorting over soft summer grass in the moonlight. Xandrian was there, watching him, and Gerren's flesh grew hard once more. He tried to get the mage to dance with him, but instead Xandrian reached down and grasped Gerren's swollen member, stroking it until Gerren's seed spilled into his slender hand.

Gerren woke the next morning to find his own hand wrapped around his now-flaccid length, and it was damp with his release.

#

Xandrian's horse stumbled on a stone in the road, and the sudden motion wrenched the mage from the half-doze he had been indulging in most of the morning. Xandrian yawned. He was glad to have left the noisy village; his sleep had been poor the night before, for the patrons in the public room below them had continued their raucous festivities well into the small hours. Gerren had been restless as well, thrashing around on his pallet almost like he was dancing in his sleep.

Four tired men and a gray, cloudy day made for a quiet morning, and while Xandrian enjoyed the peace and quiet it made it hard to stay awake.

They ate their midday meal in relative silence. _There is going to be a storm today,_ Xandrian thought when he glanced at the clouds. It was going to be a strong one, one that he would not be able to disperse. They'd been very lucky with the weather the past few weeks, but it looked like their luck was about to run out.

Even Gerren had sensed a difference in the weather, and for once the young man had stayed and eaten his meal with them instead of darting off to explore.

The wind had risen throughout the afternoon, and now heavy storm clouds were gathering in the sky above them. Jomm grimaced as he looked skyward. "I think we should call it a day, friends, and stop at the nearest village for the night," he said. He held up a hand when Xandrian opened his mouth. "I know you're all 'get me there, get me there now,' but this looks to be a bad storm. Do you really want to ride in a downpour?" He patted his horse's neck, trying to calm the increasingly nervous animal.

Xandrian glared at him. "Of course not," he snapped. He had actually been about to agree with Jomm, and to have the man lecture him again was grating. "I know it's a powerful storm - yesterday and today I was able to push the clouds away from us, but this storm front is too strong."

Jomm blinked. "You kept the rain away for the last two days?"

"Yes." The mage tried not to look smug.

Jomm looked back at the sky. "Why can't you do it today? Too much for you to handle?"

Xandrian grit his teeth. "Yes, if you must know," he admitted grudgingly. "Deflecting a storm like this requires a pretty high level spell."

"You and H'rit can't do it together?"

"I'm afraid not, Jomm," said H'rit. "As a Regenerist those spells are not part of my studies. I have learned a number of spells from the other Disciplines - any serious mage wants to learn beyond his own - but I did not learn any serious Air spells. Xandrian was fortunate that his master was an accomplished Elementalist as well as Ephemerist. Homis excelled in all the Disciplines, actually." He turned to face Xandrian. "Knowing that, it shouldn't have surprised us that he had been appointed Archmage at one time, Xan." H'rit gestured at Xandrian. "Xandrian has a much more varied education than I do - besides being an Ephemerist he is a stellar Talismanist - and he is the one who will be an Archmage candidate some day, not I. I am content with healing, growing and mending."

Xandrian rolled his eyes. "What's the point in letting the Archmage keep our rank belts if you are going to tell everyone what we can and can't do, H'rit? Besides, that level of magical energy might give us away."

H'rit gave him an exasperated look. "Jomm is not everyone, and I'm sure he would appreciate having an idea of our capabilities. We are all traveling companions, after all, and we must learn to rely on each other. I know I have come to appreciate Gerren's strength and agility." H'rit smiled at the young man riding alongside Xandrian.

Gerren didn't smile back. Instead, he gazed anxiously at the sky. "The clouds look angry," he said, pointing. "They are grumbling."

Jomm looked at Gerren, eyebrows raised. "It's thunder, idiot. Haven't you been in a thunderstorm?" He turned to Xandrian. "Please don't tell me he's never seen rain."

"I've never seen rain," Gerren answered seriously. "Rain is the sky-water, yes? Will it hurt if it falls on us?"

"No, it won't hurt you," Xandrian replied. "Water fell on you when you stood under the waterfall, and that didn't hurt, right?" He immediately wished he hadn't mentioned the episode from two weeks earlier, for his mind was now dredging up images of Gerren standing naked under the rushing water.

Gerren nodded.

"Sky-water? He's calling rain 'sky-water'?" Jomm mocked. "Sweet Maiden, where the hell did you come from that you've never seen rain?"

Gerren scowled at him. "I come from the-" He abruptly stopped talking. Gerren opened his mouth again, but no sound issued forth. He looked over at Xandrian, confused.

"Never mind where he comes from, it's none of your business." Xandrian told Jomm. He was fascinated to watch the geis kick in and physically prevent Gerren from revealing that he was from the Abysm. "Just leave him be." Now it was Xandrian's turn to gesture at the darkening sky. "I thought you wanted us to get to the nearest inn - perhaps if we did that instead of you questioning my spellcasting ability and mocking my servant we would get there faster."

"Enough, all of you." H'rit maneuvered his gelding in between Jomm and Xandrian. "Bickering won't get us there any faster either. I might not be an Elementalist, but even I know better than to travel outdoors during a thunderstorm. Shall we go?" He urged his horse to a gallop and raced ahead on the rutted dirt track.

"Coming!" Jomm called to H'rit's departing form. He frowned at Xandrian and pointed at the road ahead. "After you, my lord," he drawled, "and your servant as well. Wouldn't want the brat to get struck by lightning, would we?" He clucked at his own horse, and then gave Gerren's pony a smack.

"Lightning? Struck? Wha-?" The rest of Gerren's questions were lost as the young man's mount sprinted down the track, followed closely by Jomm.

"Damn you, Jomm," Xandrian growled. No doubt he was going to suffer for Jomm's careless teasing. He shook the reins in his hand and urged his mare to gallop after his companions.

 

_tbc..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xandrian has to deal with Gerren while a thunderstorm rages. Later, on the Pilgrim's Road, Jomm shows them just how useful he is.

_Thank all the gods for indoor privies,_ Xandrian thought as he walked back to the inn's main dining room. The storm had worsened to full blow by suppertime, and their meal was frequently interrupted by howling wind, crashing thunder and blindingly bright flashes of lightning. Many of the guests were now holed up in their rooms, and Xandrian hoped to be one of them soon. Hopefully Gerren would calm down some once they were in their small room, where Xandrian could draw the curtains closed.

Gerren had been on edge all evening, especially when the storm started to rage in earnest. Xandrian had berated Jomm about his thoughtless words and made him apologize, but unfortunately the damage had been done. Every flash of lightning made Gerren jump in his seat, and he had spent most of their meal watching the rain lash at the dining hall's large windows.

Xandrian reached their table, and he noticed that Gerren was missing, his dinner hardly touched. "Where's Gerren?" he asked.

Jomm shrugged. "He ran upstairs after that great big crack of thunder a few minutes ago. Let him go, he'll be fine." He drained his cup of ale and signaled for another. "I still can't believe he's never seen a storm - although I have to admit this one is hellacious."

"What I can't believe is how you let him believe he would be struck by lightning!" Xandrian thumped his fist on the table.

"I was teasing! How was I to know that it would get to him like this?" Jomm looked to H'rit for support.

H'rit shook his head. "It was thoughtless, Jomm. And unkind - you tease him too much sometimes."

Xandrian sighed. "I'm ready to go to my room for the rest of the evening anyway; being able to get some extra sleep is a luxury. H'rit, do you have your small case of herbs and powders handy? Could you prepare a draught for me to give Gerren? Something to calm him and help him sleep."

"Oh, that's an excellent idea. I have a powder that will work nicely - it should make him sleepy without leaving him cotton-headed in the morning. I'll go up and get it." H'rit rose from his chair and gestured at the serving girl, who was bringing them more ale. "Why don't you have her make Gerren a cup of sweetened hot milk, and I'll come back down and mix it for you."

H'rit left and when the girl arrived at their table Xandrian requested the milk. He sat back down in his chair while he waited, and he drank his beer and watched the lightning illuminate the sky.

"Okay, so I was an ass." Jomm took a generous sip of his fresh cup of ale.

"You _are_ an ass," Xandrian agreed.

Jomm leaned forward. "Why did you bring him along, Xandrian? Yeah, he's pretty damn strong for his size and he has the stamina of an ox, but I can tell he's never been a manservant before. Between what you two and the Archmage have told me, this seems like it is a dangerous venture to have someone so inexperienced with you."

"I have reasons for bringing him."

"And they are?"

"None of your business." Xandrian took a long quaff of his beer.

"Fuck that," Jomm retorted. "I'm part of this little field trip too - I'm the one taking you to the bastard, in case you've forgotten, and because of that I think I deserve to know why he's here." He waved a hand impatiently. "Yes, I know the whole bit about keeping up the charade of you and H'rit being nobles on a pilgrimage; I get that. But are you really going to take him the whole way with us?"

"Yes," Xandrian replied. "He is necessary to our success."

Jomm frowned. "You two need him for your spells?"

The question was an opening, and Xandrian took it. "Yes," he lied.

Jomm was silent for a moment, and then his russet eyes widened in horror. "You - you're not going to sacrifice him, are you?"

Xandrian stared at him. "You are insane. No, we are not going to sacrifice him. But I am serious that we need his assistance, just like we need yours."

Jomm looked relieved. "Damn right you need my help. If I were a betting man - and I am, by the way - I would bet that neither you nor H'rit has ever been outside of that Collegium of yours, except for maybe the neighboring town." He cocked his head and regarded Xandrian. "Would I win?"

"Yes." Xandrian realized there was no point in denying it.

"Thought so. Look, I know you get irked when I tell you what to do, but it's not because I want to boss you around - although I will admit that it's fun. But here's the thing that I think we can both agree upon; you and H'rit haven't lived out in the world - not the _real_ world - and you two wouldn't last a week on your own. You would be set upon by bandits and be robbed... and you, my pretty friend, would most certainly be raped."

He ignored Xandrian's scowl and continued, "I'm being paid very, very good money to get you both to Arrellia, help you get your shit back and then bring your hopefully alive, hopefully intact asses back to the Collegium. I would like to get paid that money. You would like your shit back and your ass intact. All noble goals." He held out a hand. "So, peace?"

The man had a point, Xandrian conceded. He shook Jomm's hand. "Peace," he said.

Jomm nodded. "I'll make nice with Gerren tomorrow." He waved at H'rit when the healer re-entered the dining hall. "Friend H'rit," he said as H'rit sat down in his chair, "you'll be happy; Xandrian and I made up - although to his great disappointment, we did not kiss." He winced when Xandrian kicked his shin.

"I'm relieved on both counts," H'rit said with a laugh. The serving-girl arrived with the hot milk, and he mixed the powder into it carefully. "Here you go, Xan. This should help him -and you - have a more peaceful night."

"Thanks." Xandrian rose and took the pewter cup. "I'll see you both in the morning."

Booming thunder continued to shake the timbers of the inn as Xandrian mounted the stairs that led to the small room he was sharing with Gerren. Their door was unlocked, and he went inside. The room was dark, save for the periodic flashes of lightning, and from where he stood Xandrian could see no sign of Gerren. He called a small ball of magelight to his fingertips. "Gerren?" he called softly. "Where are you?" He lit the oil lamp on the bedside table, and the room was soon bathed in the warm glow of its light.

There was a indistinct reply from the other side of the bed. Xandrian walked around it to discover Gerren curled up on his pallet on the floor, huddled beneath his blankets.

"Silly," he chided while he walked over to the windows, "you should have pulled the curtains shut." He pulled the heavy fabric panels together, and now the lightning was only seen as a faint glow at the top edges.

"I'm frightened," said Gerren, his voice muffled by his pillow. "I do not want to be struck by the lightning."

Xandrian sat on the edge of the bed. "Jomm's an ass, don't you listen to him. It's a shame that the first thunderstorm you're experiencing is such a bad one - storms like this can have their own wild beauty. Sit up, Gerren, and drink this - H'rit made it for you, it will help you sleep."

The young man took the cup obediently, and as Xandrian watched him drink he was reminded of a similar stormy night when he was young, and how his master had allayed his fears. Gerren wasn't a child, and Xandrian was not his master, but it bothered him to see the normally sanguine young man in such distress.

Gerren finished his drink and handed the cup back to Xandrian. "Thank you, Xandrian," he said, and he lay back down on the pallet. His uneasy gaze returned to the window.

Xandrian shut off the oil lamp, and in the darkness he changed into his nightshirt and climbed into his bed. There was a crash of thunder, and he heard Gerren make a small noise and cringe against the frame of the bed. "Try to sleep, Gerren. You are safe inside this room, here with me. H'rit's draught should start to make you sleepy in about twenty minutes or so."

"A-all right."

Xandrian listened to the rumbling thunder and remembered how his master had once told him that the noise meant the gods were playing tenpins. Such a story wouldn't help Gerren, he knew, since the demon only had little over a month's worth of worldly living. The thunder didn't bother him, so he closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

 _CRACK!_ A bolt of lightning struck the town's bell-tower, and Xandrian suddenly had a bedfellow.

"Get out of my bed," said the mage.

"Please let me stay," Gerren pleaded, and he burrowed into Xandrian's side.

"You're acting like a child."

"I'm sorry, but please let me stay." The young man flattened himself against Xandrian and flung an arm across him, hugging him tightly. "Please."

Xandrian heaved a sigh. "Very well," he said wearily. "Just until the draught kicks in. And stop hugging me so damn tight, I can hardly breathe!"

"Sorry!" Gerren's hold loosened a bit. "Thank you for being kind to me."

"I'm not being kind. I want you to go the hell to sleep." Xandrian wrestled his arm out from under the young man. It was a mistake, because Gerren took advantage of the opening and scooted closer, resting his head on Xandrian’s shoulder while he left his arm still draped across the mage’s stomach. Xandrian tried out several positions for his arm and finally gave up and let it rest across Gerren’s back.

“It is nice, sleeping in a bed,” Gerren declared. “It is soft. Why do I have to sleep on a pallet on the floor?”

“You are supposed to be my servant,” Xandrian replied, “so I would hardly get you a separate room.”

“So why can’t I sleep in your bed? I like this very much - you are warm.”

Xandrian scowled in the darkness. "You'd better not say I am soft," he warned.

Gerren laughed. "No, you are not soft. You are bony." He reached up and touched a lock of Xandrian's hair. "Your hair is soft, though... and you are warm." He buried his face against Xandrian's neck.

The bed suddenly felt like it was twenty degrees hotter. "I don’t share my bed," Xandrian said, swallowing with some effort. Even when he had been Shuren's apprentice and sometime lover many years ago he had never actually _slept_ with the man; they would have their pleasure and then Xandrian returned to his chambers to sleep alone.

“I would like to share your bed,” Gerren mumbled against his now-sweaty neck. "I like being close to you like this, it feels good."

 _It did feel good,_ Xandrian thought. _Too good._ Far too late he realized that he had made a grave mistake in allowing Gerren to get this close to him. Xandrian was now hyper-aware of the press of Gerren’s body against his, even through their nightclothes, and in his mind he kept seeing Gerren under the waterfall, naked and glorious.

He could feel himself getting hard. “If you want a bedfellow, go sleep with H’rit or Jomm,” he said, and he tried to shift away from Gerren.

The young man held him fast. "I don't want to sleep with them. Especially Jomm - he snores. I want to sleep here with you, you don’t snore and you smell nice." Moments later, a hot, wet tongue ran along his neck. "Mmmm, your skin tastes good, too." Gerren licked him again, this time from his shoulder to his earlobe.

A shudder ran through Xandrian's body at the touch, and a deep groan escaped him. He jerked away and shifted so that he was looming over Gerren, and he grabbed at the collar of Gerren's nightshirt. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

At that moment lightning crackled across the sky, and as it lit up the room Xandrian was able to see Gerren’s face. His eyes were wide and dark, and his lips were parted slightly, revealing the tip of his tongue.

His heart pounding, Xandrian stared at Gerren's mouth. He let go of the shirt and splayed his hand against Gerren’s jaw, and then he dragged his thumb across a plump lower lip.

Gerren made a noise in his throat at the caress. He licked his lips, making them shine wetly.

Xandrian lowered his head, taking Gerren’s mouth in a rough kiss. Gerren’s mouth readily parted under his, and the younger man’s eager submission made Xandrian kiss him harder. He plundered soft, pliant lips while he stroked Gerren’s jaw with his thumb, encouraging him to open his mouth wider. When Gerren complied Xandrian pushed his tongue into the young man’s mouth, and the strangled noise that came from Gerren’s throat made heat curl in Xandrian’s groin. He shifted to pin Gerren beneath him, and he tangled his fingers in Gerren's hair while he slowly, deeply explored the mouth under his.

One of Gerren’s hands was in his hair, and the other clutched at his back, trying to pull him closer. Xandrian felt the tentative touch of Gerren’s tongue against his, and he groaned again when Gerren thrust it eagerly into his mouth and began his own explorations.

Xandrian was achingly hard now, and the threads of his self-control were stretching thinner and thinner. He broke off their kiss and stared at the young man who lay beneath him. In the dim shadows he saw dark, shining eyes and glistening, swollen lips; he felt the damp, panting puffs of Gerren's breath against his face and the hammering of Gerren's heart against his chest. Gerren's gaze was fixed on _his_ mouth now; Xandrian imagined that he must look just as wild.

Gerren touched his swollen lips, and then he whispered, "Touch me with your mouth again, Xandrian; it feels so good. I will touch you with my mouth now." He ran a line of sloppy kisses along Xandrian's jaw and throat, and then he pressed his face into Xandrian's neck.

"Your flesh is hard, I can smell it," he murmured against Xandrian's skin. He snaked a hand down to brush his palm over Xandrian's erection. "I can feel it."

Xandrian’s control snapped, and he yanked Gerren's head back and kissed him ravenously while he canted his hips to press his erection against Gerren's hand. Gerren's tongue was rolling and thrusting against his, and Xandrian was vaguely aware of a hand slipping beneath his nightshirt. But there was nothing vague about the warm fingers that wrapped around his cock, and Xandrian moaned into Gerren's mouth when they began to pull and stroke at his length.

He had not been touched like this in years, not since he had become Homis' journeyman and the study of magic had consumed his heart, mind and soul. But now there was a hot, wet tongue thrusting into his mouth and a warm, strong hand pulling at his cock; after only a few strokes Xandrian shuddered as a blinding orgasm ripped through him and he came, leaving Gerren's hand slick with his release.

Gerren pulled his mouth away from Xandrian's, panting. "I-I'm not...not f-frightened any more," he managed, and then he laughed.

Xandrian was mortified. First, to lose total control of himself and actually kiss Gerren, but then to come in Gerren's hand after some wet kisses and a few strokes of his cock? He had reacted like an untouched youth. He pulled Gerren's hand off his softening member and shoved Gerren away. "Get out of my bed." His voice was shaky; it was husky as well, and that just angered him all the more. "Get out." He pushed again, and Gerren tumbled out of the bed and onto his pallet.

"Hey! I wanted to sleep in your bed with you."

"You said you're not frightened anymore. Go to sleep," Xandrian retorted, and he rolled over on his side, keeping his back to Gerren. His body was still trembling from his climax, and Xandrian cursed the weakness of his flesh.

"But-"

"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep."

There was a few moments' silence, and then Gerren said, "You liked it, I know you did." His tone was mutinous. "You made nice noises when I touched you with my mouth, and you gave me your seed when I touched your flesh."

Xandrian said nothing.

"I liked it very much. It felt very good to touch you, and I liked the way you touched me with your mouth."

"Kissing," Xandrian snapped. "It's called kissing. Now shut up and go to sleep or I will put you out of this room altogether."

Gerren said nothing after that. The storm raged on outside, and Xandrian lay there in the darkness and concentrated on evening out his breathing, trying to ignore the damp patch in the front of his nightshirt. Things were quiet for awhile - save for the thunder - but then Xandrian heard soft grunts coming from the pallet next to his bed, accompanied by a rhythmic rustle of bed covers.

The little shit was pleasuring himself, Xandrian realized.

He yanked a pillow over his head and waited for sleep to take him.

* * *

By morning it was still raining, but it had let up enough that they were able to be on their way. Jomm purchased some lengths of oilcloth, and they secured the water-resistant fabric over their gear after they readied their horses. He also bought three daggers, which he distributed to Xandrian, H'rit and Gerren.

Xandrian eyed the weapon in his hand with distaste. "Why are you giving us these? " he asked. H'rit was looking at his dagger like it might explode, and Gerren had already cut himself examining his blade.

"This is a rough stretch of the Road," the tracker replied. "Lots of forest, lots of hills, which means lots of places for bad people to hide. Remember our discussion last night? About intact asses? I would feel better if each of you carried a weapon. You can at least pretend that you know how to use it."

"How do you use it, Jomm?" Gerren asked. "You tell us how to do everything else." He put his injured finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Xandrian swallowed hard and looked away.

Jomm laughed and ruffled Gerren's hair. "A bad person tries to hurt you, you stick it in them, lad. Anyone can use a dagger, even our two unworldly beauties here."

Xandrian snorted, but he allowed Jomm to help him fasten the leather sheath to his belt. Jomm did the same with the other two men, and Xandrian found it interesting that color bloomed in H'rit's cheeks when Jomm took H'rit's hand to show him how to hold the dagger. Surely his friend wasn't actually listening to that man's flattery?

He glanced at Gerren, who was watching H'rit's lesson with great interest. "Just keep yours fastened away," he told the young man. "You've already cut yourself twice."

Gerren huffed at him and turned away to climb onto his horse.

Clearly he wasn't forgiven for kicking Gerren out of his bed the night before. _Good_ , thought Xandrian. _Let him stay angry, and let him stay away from me._ He had slept poorly, and when he had slept his dreams had been filled with images of Gerren writhing naked beneath him. Xandrian grit his teeth while he mounted his horse, and he pulled the hood of his wool cloak low over his face so that he wouldn't have to look at Gerren or any of them. He wished the rain would end; the storm system was still powerful and his poor night's sleep left him with little energy for the level of spellcasting that would be required to move the storm away from them. Besides, he still strongly felt that he and H'rit should avoid any unnecessary magic.

The rain mocked him and continued on. It drizzled all morning and into the afternoon, and then the heavens opened up again right before they reached the next village. By the time they arrived at the village's small inn, it was dusk and they were completely drenched.

Xandrian wasn't sure whether to be irritated or relieved when they were told they would have to all share a room; the storm was stranding other pilgrims and the innkeeper wanted to keep as many rooms available as possible. Jomm charmed the innkeeper's wife into letting them dry their clothes on a rack in front of the great room's blazing fire, and when they removed their packs from under the oilcloth covers they found their things pleasantly dry. While they were enjoying their supper Xandrian grudgingly admitted that Jomm's purchase of the oilcloth had been wise.

Later they retired to their shared room, where a single bed and three pallets awaited them. H'rit overrode Xandrian's attempt to commandeer the bed and suggested drawing lots for it, and Xandrian scowled when Gerren won the draw.

Xandrian had a second night of poor sleep, this time because of the hard pallet and the racket from Jomm’s and Gerren's snores.

The next two days followed the same pattern; unrelenting rain and inns crowded with fellow travelers seeking to escape the weather. Each night found them in another shared room, and another drawing of lots for the solitary bed. And two more uncomfortable nights for Xandrian as H'rit won the draw the first night, and Jomm the second, leaving Xandrian on the floor again.

On the fourth morning the sun came out from behind the clouds, and Xandrian was grateful not only for the sunlight, but for the chance to be dry for an entire day. The change in weather lightened everyone's mood, and the morning and afternoon passed pleasantly.

The storm had left a lot of damage in its wake; as they rode along the rutted road there were many broken branches and uprooted trees. The power inherent in weather fascinated Xandrian, and he hoped they would be able to retrieve the missing Elementalist books as well as the ones they sought. He had learned a good number of Elemental spells from his master, but he would definitely be interested in studying that Discipline further; the Archmage had hinted that if they were successful in returning the tomes, she would name them Readers, since those books were now Masterless.

Gerren was certainly earning his keep, helping Jomm clear blocked sections of the road. Despite the spells that made his body human, Gerren was still extremely strong and agile - strong enough that Xandrian had to pull him aside at one point and quietly warn him to not draw too much attention to himself.

It was now late afternoon, and Jomm's promise of a village with a good inn within an hour's ride had improved Xandrian's mood considerably. He had spent the day completely dry and now he was determined that he would sleep in a proper bed by nightfall.

"Good travelers! Can you help us?"

His ruminations interrupted, Xandrian looked up from his absentminded study of his saddle's pommel and saw a wagon up ahead of them, and there was a man standing next to it waving his hand. One of the wagon's wheels had fallen off its axle, and the wagon lay tilted in the road, its cloth-covered cargo intact. A woman stood on the other side of the wagon, holding a wrapped bundle in her arms.

H'rit waved back. "Of course we'll help you!" he called. "Let's go," he said to the others. "With Gerren's strength we can certainly get that fixed for them in no time."

"H'rit, wait," said Jomm. "Let's-"

But H'rit was already riding over to the young couple, and was soon dismounting.

"Damn," cursed Jomm under his breath.

Xandrian didn't like how tense Jomm was all of a sudden. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

Jomm waved at the people ahead, smiling. Through his teeth he hissed, "I think they are trouble."

They reached the others and Jomm hopped off his horse and grabbed Gerren. "Gerren, you lazy lout," he said loudly, "Go help your master off his horse." He whispered something in Gerren's ear and pushed the young man toward Xandrian.

Gerren's brows were drawn in confusion when he reached Xandrian, and as he helped Xandrian down he whispered, "Jomm said to get out your dagger, and stay with the horses."

Xandrian complied, standing behind Gerren to hide his movements.

"How can we help you, friends?" Jomm asked, still smiling. Xandrian noticed that his sword hand hung loose and open at his side.

The man smiled back. "You can help us by giving us all your money, and your jewels as well." As he spoke four men leaped out from under the oilcloth covering on the wagon, and the woman tossed her bundle aside, grabbed H'rit and held a knife to his throat.

"Do what he says, or I'll open his throat!" she yelled. The man gestured to his companions, and two of them slowly approached Jomm while the other two walked toward Xandrian and Gerren.

"Move aside, boy," the one man said. "We need to relieve your pretty Master of his worldly goods."

"Mmm, maybe we'll relieve him of his virginity, too," his companion said with a nasty laugh.

"Don't you touch him!" Gerren growled, and he moved closer to Xandrian.

"I said move aside, brat!" The man reached out to shove Gerren away, but Gerren snarled and leaped at him instead. The man screamed as Gerren raked at his face and neck with his fingernails.

And then there was chaos. The other two men charged at Jomm, who pulled out both sword and dagger and began to duck and spin in a deadly dance with his attackers.

The horses reared in fear, and Xandrian instinctively grabbed at their reins.

"Xan! The horses!" Jomm yelled as he continued to block and parry blows.

Xandrian managed to catch H'rit's horse as it ran by, but Gerren's pony galloped past him as he struggled with the other three animals. Gerren, meanwhile, had launched himself at the second man and was biting and clawing at him, while the first man rolled in the mud, clutching at his face and howling in pain.

There was the clang of steel on steel, screams, and the gurgling sounds of death; Jomm stepped over the bodies of his attackers and then threw his dagger at the leader. The blade caught the man in the throat and he fell back into the wagon in a lifeless heap.

"Get H'rit!" Xandrian shouted.

But H'rit was standing quietly by the wagon, looking down at the woman who now lay dead on the ground. In his hand was a bloody dagger. "A bad person tries to hurt you, you stick it in them," he said, and then he fell to the ground, unconscious.

 

_tbc…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jomm helps H'rit deal with the emotional aftermath of a tumultuous day.

_ What a fuck-all. _

"Keep a tight hold of those horses, Xan - I'll go to H'rit!" Jomm quickly sheathed his sword and ran over toward H'rit. He passed Gerren, who was standing over the two remaining bandits. Gerren's hands and mouth were bloody, and the screams of the men echoed through the valley. "Gerren! Get that length of rope that's on the side of my saddle and tie their hands and feet. Tie 'em tight, boy, and then go help Xan."

A quick check of his fallen companion showed no wounds, only a scratch along H'rit's neck where the woman must have nicked him with her knife. He knelt and checked H'rit's pulse; it was fast and strong, and that told Jomm that the healer had merely fainted. Jomm patted a pale cheek. "Come on, H'rit, come back to us." H'rit remained unconscious, and Jomm decided he was better off securing the area right now. He rose and went over to help Gerren.

"Is he all right? You're just going to leave him lying there?" Xandrian scowled at him while he struggled to keep the three spooked horses under control.

"He's fine - no injuries, I think he just fainted. We need to get these vermin secured - we're going to bring them to town with us, so they don't get a chance to harm anyone else." Jomm glanced at Gerren, who was still panting and looking wild-eyed. "I'll finish here, Gerren." He pointed over to a gap between the trees on one side of the road. "You see over there? Go between those trees and you'll find a stream. You need to go wash that blood off, or you'll frighten the horses." _Not to mention the townsfolk,_ he thought; right now Gerren looked more animal than human.

Gerren obeyed, sprinting off toward the trees.

Jomm finished tying the rope bonds, and with two quick punches he rendered the men unconscious. He rose and dusted off his pants and headed over to Xandrian. "Didn't want to hear their noise any more," he said, and he took two of the reins from the mage. "Let's tie them to those trees over there for now," Jomm suggested. "I think we might have to count Gerren's horse lost for now, because we need to get to town as soon as possible and report the attack."

The two men led the horses over to the trees, and tied the reins securely around a few sturdy trunks. "Are you all right, Xandrian?" he asked. "You did well, by the way."

"I did nothing," Xandrian spat. "Nothing but hold horses."

Jomm clapped him on the back. "You did what I told you to do, and without question; we would have been in a bad way if we had lost all the horses. Gerren more than took care of those two that came after you, although not in a manner that I would have expected. You’re unharmed?"

"I'm fine - they didn't even get close before Gerren attacked them."

"The lad did well too, he also listened to me. I must say, you have an interesting servant, Xandrian." He tugged at Xandrian's sleeve and gestured at H'rit”s unconscious form. "Now him... he should not have approached those people when I told him to wait," the tracker said as they walked over to their companion.

Xandrian nodded. "I saw the change in you; you knew something was wrong from the start."

"I've heard tales of bandits posing as travelers, asking for help and then attacking. And when I saw the baby that woman was holding, and I knew something was wrong."

"The baby? You mean that bundle she was holding? How did you know that it wasn't a baby?" Xandrian knelt next to his friend and checked pulse and breathing, just as Jomm had done moments earlier.

"I grew up with babies in the house," Jomm replied. "They make a god-awful racket the best of times, and if that had been a real baby we would have heard it crying. Also, she wasn't holding it like a mother holds a baby." He laughed at the expression on Xandrian's face. "I would imagine that you two have not encountered many babies."

"No," said Xandrian. "Most women mages know spells to keep from quickening. I need quiet for a moment, please." He placed his hand over H'rit's forehead and closed his eyes.

Jomm complied with the request, and watched the mage's lips move wordlessly. He hadn't expected Xandrian to obey him so readily earlier, and he had to admit he admired the man's steel nerves through what must have been a harrowing experience. The boy had handled himself well too, and had displayed an obvious attachment to his 'master'. Even while he had been fighting his initial attackers, Jomm had heard Gerren snarling at the other men when they had threatened Xandrian. He frowned at the memory. Yes; Gerren had been snarling like a beast, and then he had attacked them like one too - biting them and clawing at them with his fingernails. He hadn't even attempted to use his dagger.

As if summoned, Gerren burst through the clearing on the other side of the road and ran over to join them. Jomm held a finger to his lips to prevent the boy from interrupting Xandrian's trance. Gerren's face and hands were clean, although his nails were going to need a good scrubbing. Jomm noticed that the servant's gaze never left the blond mage, and he had to admit that Gerren had good taste - Xandrian was easily the most beautiful man Jomm had ever seen.

Ice-blue eyes opened, and Xandrian sighed and removed his hand. "He won't wake for awhile, I'm afraid. His mind is shying away from facing what he has done." He glanced over at Gerren. "You did well, Gerren - you'll have extra dessert tonight."

Gerren grinned, revealing bloodstained teeth.

Xandrian grimaced. "Ugh. Go get your waterskin and rinse out your mouth - you look like a _shireen_ with those bloody teeth." He looked up at Jomm. ""How are were going to get everyone into town?" he asked.

"We'll load up those two sorry sods on H'rit's horse. Let Gerren ride with you - he's light enough that your bay can handle both of you, and I'll ride with H'rit." Jomm glanced at the sky. "We should get moving; we're losing our light."

They made quick work of strapping the two men to H'rit's gelding, and Jomm put Gerren in charge of holding the horse's reins while he rode with Xandrian. He mounted his own horse, and arranged H'rit's unconscious form in front of him. He signaled Xandrian, and they made their way through the valley.

He had set H'rit up to lean back against him, and beyond the blood and sweat Jomm smelled the sandalwood in H'rit's hair, and this close he noticed how long the healer's eyelashes were. Xandrian might be the prettier of the pair, but H'rit had his own beauty - and a quiet, calm demeanor that Jomm found much more appealing.

Jomm breathed in the sandalwood scent, and he murmured against dark brown hair, "Why didn't you listen to me, my dark beauty?"

* * *

It was well past sunset by the time they were all settled at the inn. Xandrian carried H'rit to a room while Jomm dealt with sending for the village ’s sheriff and reporting the attack and the deaths of the four other bandits. He, Xandrian and Gerren then washed up properly, changed and enjoyed a hearty dinner, and Gerren had two kinds of pie for his dessert.

Jomm peeked in on H'rit, and when he saw that the healer still sleeping he went to the inn's bath and paid extra for them to draw him a tub full of hot water and salts. He soaked in the steaming tub, letting the heat ease his sore muscles.

He had not fought like that in at least a year, and he mentally cataloged places where he had been sloppy with his attacks and defenses. Not bad for two against one, though, and he grinned to himself. Better than four against one, which it would have been if Gerren had not joined in the fray.

Jomm wasn't sure what to make of Gerren. There was a story to the boy, he felt, a story that Xandrian and H'rit knew and he did not. Gerren had a naivete about him that sometimes bordered on simple-mindedness; it was like he was seeing everything for the first time - like he was a newborn who was close to twenty years old. There was no doubt that Gerren was a man, however; when he had stood naked under that waterfall weeks ago he had displayed a cock that probably put them all to shame.

It was a puzzle, and Jomm generally didn't like puzzles.

The hot water gradually cooled, and Jomm dried off and changed into a pair of soft leather breeches and a linen shirt before heading back to his room to stow his things. He desperately wanted a generous, stiff drink. He decided to check on H'rit on his way to the inn’s public room, but when he glanced in the room the bed was empty.

He found H'rit downstairs, sitting alone at a secluded table and nursing a glass of amber spirits. An empty glass sat on the table in front of him.

Jomm slid onto the opposite bench. "There you are," he said. He signaled the serving-girl.

"Here I am." H'rit circled a finger around the rim of the glass and stared at the table. He was dressed similarly to Jomm, except that his breeches were of a heavy, corded cotton. His hair was damp, and Jomm could smell the sandalwood of his soap from across the table.

The girl came to the table. "What can I get you, sir?"

Jomm smiled at her. "I'd love a cool, tall tankard of your best amber, love. Tell me, does Cook still have some of that delicious beef and barley soup you were serving earlier?"

She nodded.

"Perfect. Could you bring my friend here a bowl? He's not had his supper yet."

"I don't want any food," H'rit said, his voice flat.

Jomm winked at the girl. "Bring it anyway, love - if I can't charm him into eating it, I'll eat it myself."

She giggled and left.

He flicked a fingernail against H’rit’s glass. "Look, you need to eat _something_. You've not had any food since we had those pasties at noon, and if you keep drinking like that on an empty stomach you're going to be mightily sick."

"It was all my fault." The words came out in a choked whisper.

Jomm frowned; he needed to nip H’rit’s guilt in the bud. "It wasn't your fault, H'rit. They would have attacked us anyway, believe me."

"Really?" H'rit looked at him then, and something twisted in Jomm's chest when he saw the raw anguish in the other man's eyes. "I-I was foolish, believing they just needed help." He gripped his glass tightly.

"Oh, I'll agree that you were foolish," Jomm said, and he laughed when H'rit looked indignant. "You were foolish and kind-hearted and _human_. Most people would have stopped to help."

"But not you."

"Well, me... I've been around a bit, you see, and when a person's been around a bit they hear things. A smart man listens to those things, and remembers them, and I like to think that I am a smart man." Jomm paused as the girl brought him a tankard of lager, and he took a generous swallow. "I told Xan that I'd heard stories about bandits disguising themselves as travelers - even pilgrims - and pretending to be in distress so that they could catch people unawares. It made me suspicious." He took a second sip. "But, like I said, they would have attacked us anyway; they probably would have waited until we rode past them, and then the men in the cart would have come out and surprised us from the rear. You just made them move sooner than they expected, I think."

H'rit took a gulp of his drink and coughed. "H-how is Xandrian? And how are you?"

Jomm grinned. "We're all fine. We thought we'd lost Gerren's pony, but when the sheriff's men went to the glen to retrieve" - he hesitated over saying _the bodies_ just yet - "uh, when they went to the glen they found the horse wandering nearby, and brought him back."

H'rit's lips thinned to a grim line. "The bodies. You can say it. Did Gerren... kill... the men he was fighting?"

"No, they're alive. We tied them up and brought them here with us. They're in gaol, and I imagine they will bear some horrific scars." Scars that made them look like an animal mauled them, not a twenty-year-old servant. Jomm pushed that niggling thought to the back of his mind; he had a more immediate problem sitting in front of him.

The girl arrived with a steaming bowl of soup, which she set in front of H'rit. H'rit downed his drink, grimaced, and handed her the empty glass. "I'd like another, please."

Jomm tugged on her apron. "I think he needs to have at least one spoonful of that soup before you bring him another drink, don't you agree, my girl?"

"It's very good soup, sir," she said. Jomm beamed at her.

"See? It's very good soup." A baleful green gaze met his, and Jomm smiled. "Come on, H'rit. You don't want to be throwing up all night and then be useless tomorrow; I don't want to be the one to tell Xandrian we have to stay here another day because you got stubborn over a stupid bowl of soup. Do _you_ want to tell him?" He held out the spoon.

H'rit sighed. "No," he said, and he took the spoon and began to eat the soup.

Jomm slipped the girl a few coins. "Thank you, love - you can bring him his drink now. And you may as well bring me another lager - a man should never let a friend drink alone."

H'rit watched her leave, and then he looked back at Jomm. "So, how far away are we from where Nikolon is? I know that horrible rain all last week must have cost us a few days."

Jomm decided to allow the blatant change of subject; while he wanted to get H'rit to talk about the stabbing, he knew better than to push too hard too soon. "I'll want to double-check my maps in the morning but I would say we've less than a fortnight. In another few days we'll be leaving the Pilgrim's Road and heading out into the northern taiga - the wild country - and there will be no more inns."

H'rit paused, spoon in mid-air. "No more inns? Where will we stay?"

Jomm laughed. "Under the stars, my friend. I do know of a few caves along the route, and made some notes on my trip back regarding some decent spots to set up camp."

The spoon continued to hover. "Camp?"

Jomm finished off his lager. "Yes, camp. There's a good sized village right before we go off the Pilgrim's road, and I know the man who runs a outfitter's shop there. Tomorrow I will send a messenger with a list of needed provisions, and he will have everything ready for us when we arrive."

"I've never slept outside before," H'rit commented, and he returned to eating his soup.

"I don't imagine any of you has. I have to admit, that had worried me greatly when we started this trip, but after this last month or so traveling with you I can see that you and Xandrian are tougher than you look."

That earned him a small smile. "Well, Xandrian is certainly tougher than he looks. He works very hard at it."

"With his looks, he'd have to. He's lucky he's a scholar - out here, he's get no peace at all, from women or men."

H'rit looked thoughtful. "Being the adopted son of a powerful Master gave him considerable protection, especially when we were young, and that protection extended to me as well." The serving-girl brought their fresh drinks, and H'rit thanked her and took a sip of his. "It was harder when we became apprentices, and were lodged with other Masters to study their Disciplines. From what he's said, I think more than one Master offered to exchange spells for... services rendered."

Jomm leaned forward. "And did he? Render service? He does seem to know an awful lot." That got a laugh, a real one, although Jomm figured the fourth glass of spirits was helping.

H'rit leaned forward too, and whispered conspiratorially, "I know that he had been involved with his Talismanist Master, but I doubt there was any bargaining involved. Shuren is a very clever and handsome man." He sat back and took another, more generous sip of his drink. "But it was ages ago, before we became journeymen." He pushed the empty soup bowl to the edge of the table and cocked his head at Jomm. "I'm sure there have been times when you have flirted and kissed to get information, or an advantage, friend Jomm. Perhaps more than kisses."

"Perhaps you are right." The conversation had veered off into an unexpected direction, but Jomm found it interesting and was more than willing to continue. "What about you, friend H'rit?"

"Me? I fucked my master," H'rit answered, and gulped another mouthful of liquor. "But I loved her, and she loved me."

"Here's to that love, may she journey on." Jomm touched H'rit's glass with his tankard and took a long swallow of his lager. "No other loves, then? A pretty apprentice, perhaps? I'm sure you’ve had your share of pursuers too."

H'rit hiccuped. "Just one other. Oh - plenty of pursuers, as you say, but just one that I wanted to let catch me."

"Lucky girl."

Two spots of pink appeared on H'rit's cheeks. "Well... he may have been lucky, but he was definitely not a girl." He hiccuped again. "Have I shocked you, friend Jomm?"

Jomm thought the hiccups were adorable, the blush even more so. "I'm pretty hard to shock."

"What about your loves, Jomm?" H'rit managed to ask in between hiccups. "I would imagine a man like you would have no shortage of sweethearts."

Now it was Jomm's turn to trail a finger around the rim of his tankard. "Well now, I do get to warm a fair share of beds. But sweethearts… well, sweethearts don't like their men being away for months at a time. They want their man by their side, keeping a respectable job and giving them lots of babies." He took a long drink.

"And you are not respectable," H'rit noted with the devastating honesty of a drunk man.

Jomm almost choked on his beer. "Easy, now!" He laughed. "You're right, though; I'm not respectable. I could never run a shop - although sometimes I think I wouldn't mind having a tavern - and I don’t think I could stand having a trade where I'm doing the same fucking thing day after day. But I like what I do. I help people, make money doing it and I see more of the world than I ever would if I lived 'respectably'."

H'rit looked at him intently. "That is true, but I think you wish you had a sweetheart, someone to come home to."

"They would have to be a very special, very patient sweetheart."

"Well then, here's to you finding someone who will wait for you to come home." H'rit clinked his glass against Jomm's tankard and downed his drink in a single gulp. There was a loud _clack_ as he set his glass down a little too hard on the table, and his fingers fell away from the glass. He sat on his bench and hiccuped, swaying slightly.

_ Any moment now, _ Jomm thought. "You've had quite a few drinks, friend H'rit," he commented.

"I have," replied H'rit, his moss green eyes blinking owlishly at Jomm. His head jerked up, then lolled to his right. "The room is moving." His swaying worsened.

"Is it now?"

"Yes." With a lurch H'rit looked over to his left. "In a circular fashion."

Jomm bit his lip, hard. He should not be finding H'rit's drunkenness amusing, considering the reason why the healer had downed so many glasses of spirits. But the way that H'rit was studying his own inebriation was priceless.

"I think it might be time for you to retire, my friend," Jomm suggested, and he left some money on the table and rose from his bench to stand next to H'rit. He held out his hand. "Come on, take my hand; I'll help get you to bed."

A slender, wavering finger poked his palm. "Are you going to warm it?" Another hiccup.

Jomm laughed then, and hauled H'rit to his feet. "No, my beauty, I'm going to put you in it and watch over you from the comfort of a hard pallet."

"Oh," said H'rit, and then he slumped against Jomm, unconscious for the second time that day.

Jomm shook his head and chuckled. "Ah, friend H'rit," he said as he hauled H'rit up and heaved him up over his shoulder, "if I didn't know better, I might say that you sounded disappointed."

He trudged up the stairs, stopping on the landing to adjust his sleeping burden. "You're heavy, you know,” he murmured. “I truly hope you're not going to puke on me." He paused at the top of the steps to catch his breath. "How did Xandrian carry you up here? He must've magicked you to make you light. Speaking of Lord Golden-Hair, I guess I’d better let him know you've gone and gotten yourself hellaciously drunk."

Jomm walked down the hallway and rapped at Xandrian's door. When the mage opened it he said, "Our friend here enjoyed a little too much drink, and in light of today's events I think I'm going to room with him tonight."

Xandrian looked at H'rit, who was slung over Jomm's shoulder, and frowned. "He's my friend, I should stay with him."

Jomm heard genuine concern in the curt words, but he shook his head. "He needs someone who's done what he's done. We'll be fine." He peered around Xandrian. "Gerren! There will be an empty bed in my room. Want to sleep in it? It's nice and soft."

Gerren hopped up from his pallet on the floor. "Oh, yes! I would like to sleep in a soft bed."

Jomm saw the young man glance at Xandrian with what almost looked like a pout, and he saw the mage's shoulders stiffen almost imperceptibly. _Looks like someone wanted to share,_ he thought. Before Gerren could bound over to the door Jomm pointed at the pallet. "Bring that with you, and put it in H'rit's room - I'll be sleeping on it."

Gerren complied, dragging the thin mattress down the hall. He brought it into H'rit's room, and after the two men lowered H'rit onto his bed Gerren held his hand out for Jomm's key.

"Here you go,” Jomm said. “You did a fine job protecting your master today, Gerren. I'm sure Xandrian appreciates it." He ruffled the young man’s hair.

Gerren eyed the key that Jomm placed in his hand. "Xandrian will not let me sleep in his bed with him," he said.

Yes, that was definitely a pout.

Jomm patted his shoulder. "That's a shame. But you can have my bed all to yourself tonight." He briefly wondered if Xandrian was afraid he'd want to do more than sleep with the young man. Jomm hadn't missed the look on the mage's face when Gerren had been naked under the waterfall. Or when Gerren had been dancing in the tavern a few nights ago, for that matter.

"Thanks, Jomm!" Gerren left for his new lodgings.

Jomm set to getting H'rit into bed. He dug a nightshirt out of the man’s pack, and then he took off H'rit's shirt and slipped the soft cotton nightwear over H'rit's head, working limp arms through the sleeves. He tugged off boots and breeches, and then he arranged H'rit in a comfortable position on the mattress and tucked the covers around him. Jomm shed his own clothes and shrugged into his nightshirt, and then he arranged the pallet in a spot where he could keep an eye on the bed and he settled in to watch the rise and fall of H'rit's chest as the healer slept.

A few hours later Jomm awoke to hear H'rit weeping. It was not loud, anguished weeping, but the kind that silently shakes shoulders and draws shuddering breaths from a mouth that is desperately trying to hold every noise inside.

He rose from his pallet and sat on the edge of the bed, where H’rit was curled on his side, facing away from him. "H'rit." He touched H'rit's shoulder.

Words began to tumble out of H'rit’s mouth. "S-she... was beginning to panic - I t-think none of them expected Gerren to act like he did. She t-thought I was a p-p-pilgrim, and s-so she didn't even search m-me for a w-w-weapon." He made a choked sound, and Jomm could feel the racking shudder that went through H'rit's body. "I h-had m-m-managed to open the sh-sheath, and when she c-c-cut me I just pulled it out a-and stuck it i-into her. And she died."

Jomm reached over and began to slowly rub H'rit's back. "That was what anyone would have done, H'rit."

"I killed her!"

Jomm continued to move his hand along H'rit's back. "Yes, you killed her. But you did not murder her. She would have murdered _you_ , and taken your life for a bag of gold coins."

"I am a healer! I am supposed to give life, return life - not take life! I took a life!"

Jomm gave him a gentle shake. "All right, that's it - move over." He lifted the covers and slid under them to join H'rit in the bed, pressing up against the curve of H'rit's back. He slipped an arm around a trembling waist.

"No one ever said it's easy," he murmured against H'rit's hair. "I am going to tell you a story. I had a happy childhood, but my father believed that a man must make his own way. He had no shop to pass on to me, no lands, not even a trade; and by the time I was sixteen I was merely one of too many mouths to feed. So I was shown the door, with nothing but a sack with some meager belongings. I’m a lucky sort, though, and I managed to live by doing odd jobs and bartering for a place to sleep. I didn't stay at any one place too long, for I was an arrogant little shit at that age."

H'rit choked on a laugh, in spite of himself. "Just at that age?" he managed.

"Hush now, this is my story," Jomm said, and he gently tweaked H'rit's ear. "I told you I was a lucky fellow, and I was soon able to make a decent living finding things; objects, animals, people. I earned the nickname 'Jomm the Hunter, and I was even being hired by nobles. Then one day a nobleman summoned me; he wanted to hire me to retrieve his wayward wife, who had disappeared after they had quarreled. He still loved her, he told me, and would do anything to get her back. He gave me half payment of twenty gold coins - twice as much as I'd made on any job - and promised the same when I returned with his wife. He gave me a ring to present to her as a token of his love."

"Did you find her?"

Jomm was pleased that H'rit was listening; he was even more pleased that while H'rit was still trembling, he had calmed considerably. "I did."

"Did you bring her back to her husband?"

"I did not," he replied. "For you see, when I found her I saw that she had been terribly, horribly beaten, and she was frightened to death of the man her father had forced her to marry. I gave her the ring so that she could sell it, and I helped her to book passage on a ship that was sailing across the Fingered Sea to Nordalenn, where her sister lived. I then returned to the noble and gave him his twenty gold coins back."

"I can't imagine he was pleased."

Jomm snorted. "No he most certainly was not. But he thanked me for my honesty in returning the gold, and I went on my way."

"That was very honorable of you Jomm," H'rit murmured. "But what does that-"

"Hush! Who's story is this? I'll do the telling in my own way, thank you very much. A week later, I was leaving a tavern where I had spent a lovely evening with a bottle of spirits, and on the midnight road back to my bartered room I was set upon by a mercenary warrior who had been hired by the noble to kill me."

"Kill you? But why? You had been nothing but honorable with him."

"Aye, that I had, but I had not given him what he wanted - worse, I had helped the woman escape from him. For you see, he had learned of the aid I had given his wife, and was enraged. So now I was on an empty road with nothing but a drunken buzz and a knife that I kept in my boot, and that man had a sword. But his great failing was that he was used to fighting with a sword, and fighting with other people who used swords. He was not, I think, used to fighting nineteen-year-olds who had never held a sword, and who fought dirty. He was a great swordsman - he gave me some lovely scars that I carry to this day - but he was also full of himself, and when he came at me with this ridiculous flourish that belonged more in a joust than a street fight, I pulled my knife out of my boot and stabbed him between the ribs."

Jomm closed his eyes against the memory. "I struck his heart, and he died right in front of me. He dropped his sword and gripped my shoulders, and he looked so... surprised. And I watched the life go out of his eyes, heard the awful gurgling noises he made, and then smelled him as his body pissed and shit and bled before me."

H'rit was still. "How horrible, Jomm. But if you hadn't, he would have killed you!"

Jomm tweaked his ear again. "And there is my lesson to you, friend H'rit. That woman today would have cut your throat open. Now, I will tell you that there is a lesson in her death, just as there was a lesson in that soldier's death; she tried to use you as a hostage because you were kind and wanted to help someone who seemed to be in trouble. The soldier was hired to kill me because I helped an abused wife escape her husband.”

There was silence for a moment, and then H'rit asked quietly, "Is the lesson to not help people? I would prefer not to learn that lesson."

"No, friend H'rit," Jomm answered. "The lesson is to continue to listen to your heart - but keep a close eye on your back, and be careful." 

"That was a good half dozen years ago, Jomm, and you still remember it so clearly... will I ever forget her?"

"No, you won't," he said simply. "And you shouldn't, for you have taken a life. Today I added three weights to the ghostly chain that hangs around my neck, and all three of them will visit my dreams. And I will remember them, for the day that I don't is the day that I cease to be human, and become a monster." He settled his arm over H’rit’s waist again, and felt the warmth of H'rit's hand cover his own. He smiled when the healer's thin fingers twined with his.

"Thank you, Jomm," H'rit whispered. Thank you for telling me your story-"

"Which you interrupted."

H'rit gave his hand a surprisingly strong squeeze. "And thank you for warming my bed."

"You're welcome. Now, go to sleep." Jomm stayed awake, listening until H'rit's breathing gradually became even, and the hand that clasped his became limp. He pressed a light kiss to sandalwood-scented hair and breathed in its scent. "Hmmm. I wonder if you might be the waiting kind, friend H'rit," he murmured, and then he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall asleep.

_ tbc… _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four men are safely back on the Pilgrim's road, and after encountering another waterfall Xandrian has an intense dream. Or does he?

Xandrian yawned and rubbed at his eyes as he headed down to the the inn's greatroom. He was exhausted; throughout the night his sleep had been interrupted with lurid dreams about the bandit attack. He ended up lying awake for hours, unable to fall back asleep because he couldn't hear Gerren's steady breathing, and that was because the little shit was sleeping in Jomm's room.

Still sleeping too, judging by the snores that emanated from the room when he had walked by.

He'd actually missed having Gerren in the room with him. Somehow, over the past few weeks, he'd become accustomed to hearing Gerren breathe and snore and shift around on his pallet, and last night the room was quiet. Too quiet, and it annoyed him that he hadn't slept well because of the brat's absence. He was even more annoyed that Gerren was obviously sleeping well enough without _him_.

He saw Jomm at one of the tables and walked over to join him. "Morning," he said, and sat on the bench opposite the tracker.

"Morning," said Jomm, and he waved the server over to them. "Get my friend a strong cuppa, lad, and a nice bowl of your granny's porridge." When the boy left he sipped at his own steaming mug and peered at Xandrian. "How are you this morning? You look like shit."

Xandrian scowled at him. "Thank you so much for the kind flattery," he retorted. "I didn't have the best of dreams last night."

"I don't imagine you did."

"How is H'rit?" Xandrian asked. "He looked like he was sleeping peacefully when I checked on him earlier."

"He had a bit of a rough patch in the middle of the night when it all caught up with him, but he's going to be fine. We ought to let him sleep in a bit, he could use the rest."

The boy brought his meal, and after he left Xandrian said, "You knew that would happen, didn't you? That it would... 'catch up with him'."

Jomm nodded. "Been there before, many years ago, and I had been alone. I didn't want him to be alone."

Xandrian grimaced. "I should have been the one to stay with him."

"No, I don't think so. I think it worked out better that you weren't. Sometimes it's easier to unburden yourself to someone who has trod the same road."

Xandrian took a careful sip of his steaming tea. "You were right, you know; we wouldn't have stood a chance by ourselves against those people. I'm telling you this because right now it's just you and me sitting here - and I will deny ever having this conversation - but I am grateful that you were with us yesterday, and that you helped H'rit last night."

Jomm grinned. "Glad to be of service."

H'rit soon joined them, and Xandrian tipped a servant to wake up Gerren.

The young man arrived in the dining hall fifteen minutes later, rubbing his eyes blearily and sporting hair that stuck out in every direction. He plopped down next to Xandrian and yawned, a face-cracking affair that afforded everyone at the table a complete view of his teeth.

"My bed was nice and soft," Gerren declared. "I had a very good sleep." He thanked the boy who brought him a plate of food, and then he turned to Xandrian and said, "I liked the bed, but I like staying with you better. I missed listening to you breathe last night, and there was no one to tell me to shut up and stop snoring."

Xandrian almost choked on his tea while Jomm laughed.

"Isn't that sweet; the pet missed his master," Jomm said.

"Shut up, Jomm," Xandrian and Gerren said in unison.

They made quick work of breakfast and then prepared to leave. Soon they were back on the Pilgrim's Road, and Xandrian noticed that there was something different about the way Jomm and H'rit behaved with each other as they rode slightly ahead of him and Gerren. There was an ease between them that wasn't there yesterday, and Xandrian wondered what had passed between them during the night.

Thankfully, their day's travel was uneventful and mostly solitary, punctuated by only a single encounter with fellow travelers. The traumatic events of the previous day colored their meeting, however, and Jomm led them on without the customary greetings and exchange of information. Xandrian noticed a marked change in Gerren's demeanor while they rode by; Gerren steered his pony to amble very close to Xandrian's horse, and he kept a glittering, watchful gaze on the strangers, following their every move until they disappeared from view. Then he smiled and returned to his usual sunny mood.

H'rit, on the other hand, was white-faced and silent for the rest of the morning.

When it was time for them to stop for their midday meal the fare was more enjoyable than usual; as a thank-you for their dispatch of the bandits, the innkeeper had provisioned them with a minor feast, free of charge.

"Why did the innkeeper give us all this? The bad people were not at his inn," Gerren questioned through a mouthful of pie.

"It hurts an inn to have robberies and attacks on the road that leads to it," Jomm replied, and he helped himself to another biscuit. "People won't want to stay in a place they think is unsafe. Now that the 'bad people' are gone, word will spread and he will get more customers."

"And your reputation will spread," noted Xandrian. "O Jomm the Bandit-Slayer."

Jomm grinned and shook a chicken leg at him. "Can't hurt, my friend. It can never hurt for people to think you are a dangerous man, not to be trifled with. Right, O Gerren the Bandit-Eater?"

H'rit nearly choked on his wine while Gerren made a face. It didn't escape Xandrian's attention that H'rit's mood improved after that, and that there was an emerging pattern of Jomm making H'rit laugh whenever his friend became too withdrawn. The pattern spoke of a solicitousness that Xandrian found interesting.

Gerren, meanwhile, had returned to his normal boisterous self and had also returned to his habit of exploring their immediate area while the other men took their midday rest.

Xandrian was dozing under the cool shade of a tree when Gerren's voice woke him.

"Xandrian." Gerren tugged on the mage's sleeve. "Come see what I found." He tugged again, insistent.

Xandrian glanced over at Jomm to make sure the tracker was awake, and then he got up and followed Gerren.

Leaves and twigs crunched under his boots as he followed Gerren through a small, densely wooded ravine. Xandrian heard trickling water and when they walked through a thick copse of trees they found themselves in a tiny, rocky canyon that surrounded them on three sides. In front of them, gushing from a cleft high in the jagged, black granite rock, was a small waterfall.

"This is a waterfall too, right?" Gerren asked, pointing at the water. "It looks so different from the other one, I wasn't sure."

"It is a waterfall," Xandrian agreed, "And yes, it is very different." This was not a powerful cascade of water that roared down from the top of a cliff; here, tendrils of water coursed around the rocks, splitting and splitting again until they created a delicate lacing of water that trickled into a small stream at the base of the rock. Leafy green ferns clung to the rocks, their mossy roots penetrating into splits and cracks so they could partake of the tiny waterfall's bounty. It was beautiful, and the quiet burbling of the water was very calming. Xandrian touched a furry green frond and marveled at its intense green color.

Gerren grinned at him. "I have seen two waterfalls now. I like this one better, even though I cannot stand under the water like I did before." He knelt by the mossy bank of the stream. "Do you think there might be 'river gems' here?"

Xandrian shook his head. "I don't think so. If you remember what Jomm said, they are made by the way the water rushes over the stones."

Gerren glanced up at the trickling, intersecting rivulets of water. "This water does not rush," he murmured. "It wishes to touch the rocks and be close to them." He reached out and poked his finger against a jutting piece of black granite and watched the water cleave around his finger.

His words were oddly intimate.

Gerren tasted the water, and when his finger left his mouth it left his lips glistening. 

Xandrian's gut clenched as he remembered the night he had kissed wet, shining lips, and had plunged his tongue into the moist cavern of Gerren's mouth. Heat flared in his groin, and Xandrian quickly turned away.

"We should get back," he said.

"All right," Gerren said. He bent down to pluck a stone from the creek bed and then he rose and joined the mage.

Xandrian felt a damp hand curl around his, wet fingers sliding and twining.

"I am glad you came with me," Gerren said. "Look what I found!" He held out his other hand, and Xandrian saw a small, lustrous violet-colored pebble. "It is the same color as your eyes," he pointed out, and he slipped it into the pouch at his waist.

"Why do you collect all these things?" Xandrian asked, intensely aware of the crystal-clear stone that was tucked away in the inside pocket of his own jerkin.

Gerren squeezed his fingers. "So I can remember," he said. He smiled and released Xandrian's hand, and then he darted on ahead. "H'rit!" he called. "I saw another waterfall - it was very small but it was so pretty."

Xandrian was vaguely aware of H'rit's response as he untied his horse and climbed back into the saddle.

_ So I can remember _ .

* * *

Xandrian was back in the lush wooded valley, but this time he was the one who stood naked under the waterfall, arms outstretched. Water thundered on his head and shoulders; it flattened his hair and pounded against his skin, threatening to knock him over. As it coursed over his body he turned his palms upward to catch the water's icy power and make it his own.

The power seeped into him, no longer cold but hot and throbbing, and Xandrian arched his back in pleasure as it coiled in his groin and hardened his flesh.

_ Gerren, _ he whispered. _I summon thee. Come to me._

Moments later Gerren walked through the curtain of water that shimmered in front of him, and he too was naked, his body glowing with a blue-white light. He went down on his knees before Xandrian and took Xandrian's member into his mouth.

Xandrian looked down and watched Gerren hungrily devour him while the water continued to pelt them both. Xandrian threaded his fingers though a wild mane of chestnut hair and he caressed the tips of long, pointed ears while he rocked his hips, moaning when fangs grazed sensitive flesh.

Licking, sucking.

Pleasure growing, building.

The water's flow changed, and now it trickled over black rocks and clung to the curves and angles of their bodies.

A rooster crowed. 

The sound startled Xandrian, and his eyes flew open to see a ceiling above him, walls around him; he was in his bed at the inn. Rain battered at the windows, and dark gray clouds concealed the early morning dawn. But the heat and pleasure were still there, and when Xandrian glanced down he saw a lump at the foot of his bed. He lifted the sheets.

His nightshirt was bunched up around his waist, and Gerren lay between his legs, head bobbing as he sucked on Xandrian's cock.

"W-what are you doing?" Xandrian gasped weakly.

Gerren looked up, and he let Xandrian's length slip from his mouth. "You called my name, and said to come to you,” he said. “I smelled that your flesh was hard, and I was going to touch it like before, but then I decided to kiss it instead. You've been making the most wonderful noises, Xan. I like kissing your flesh." He ran his tongue along the glistening head, and then he returned to his task.

At that point, any thoughts of stopping Gerren flew out of his mind, and Xandrian groaned and threw back the sheets. He propped himself up on an elbow and took in the glorious sight of Gerren's mouth engulfing him, and he reached down and brushed his fingers against Gerren’s cheek before he threaded them through soft, spiky hair. 

_ Oh, gods, it feels so good. _ He lay back and closed his eyes, savoring the feel of the hot, wet mouth on his flesh and the building, blazing heat in his groin. He used a gentle pressure to encourage Gerren to take him deeper into his mouth. Gerren complied eagerly, and when Xandrian felt his cock hit the back of Gerren's throat he shuddered and came hard into Gerren’s mouth. The aftershocks of his climax continued to spike through him while Gerren swallowed his release, and he was vaguely aware of the weight of Gerren’s head resting on his thigh. Xandrian opened his eyes to see Gerren smiling at him.

"You taste good, Xan," he said. 

Xandrian grabbed the collar of Gerren’s nightshirt and hauled Gerren up against him. He kissed him roughly, tasting his own spend when Gerren eagerly thrust his tongue in Xandrian's mouth.

Gerren broke off their kiss. "You looked beautiful when you cried out and gave me your seed," he breathed, his mouth hovering over Xandrian's.

"Stop talking nonsense," Xandrian growled, and he pulled Gerren close for another kiss. Reaching under Gerren’s nightshirt, Xandrian grasped the hardness that he found there, and he began to pull and tug at Gerren’s hot, ample length. Gerren buried his face in Xandrian’s neck, and his grunts and moans of pleasure were muffled against sweaty skin while he rocked into Xandrian’s hand. Within minutes he was clutching at Xandrian’s shoulders, arching against him as he came, and Xandrian felt teeth against his skin and warm, wet spend on his fingers.

“Mmmmm.” Gerren’s lips moved on Xandrian’s skin, soothing the spot where he had bitten him. "I liked you touching my flesh like that, it gave me much pleasure," he whispered, and when Xandrian let go of him he pressed himself along Xandrian's side and slid an arm across the mage’s waist. "Can I sleep in your bed with you this time?" he asked. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Xandrian snorted. _Persistent brat._ "Yes, you can stay."

* * *

"Tonight's going to be our last night at an inn," Jomm reminded them as they rode along a rocky section of the Pilgrim's Road. They were traversing a mountain pass, and the way was high and narrow, the 'road' barely wide enough to accommodate a wagon. "Last chance for a soft bed, a good hot dinner and a hot bath. We leave the Road tomorrow."

Xandrian wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or relieved. 

He'd woken up that morning to find Gerren curled up behind him, softly snoring into the back of his neck, and the urge to pull the covers over their heads and fuck Gerren senseless had been almost overwhelming. Xandrian managed to escape the bed without waking him, and a secluded alcove in the baths had afforded him enough privacy to alleviate his frustration.

Waking up Gerren had been an ordeal, mostly because Xandrian then found himself with an eager young man in his lap, hungry for more. After a few hard kisses the mage extricated himself and while he packed he had told Gerren that their pleasure was a private thing, not to be talked about or acted upon in front of others - especially Jomm.

Gerren had agreed readily enough, and throughout the morning Xandrian had been pleased to see him act as if nothing had happened between them when there were around the other two men.

But now as the day went on, and the road took them higher and higher toward the mountain pass, Xandrian felt more than the warmth of the afternoon sun. There was heat in Gerren's gaze now when it rested on him, and the glint in his eyes told Xandrian he was probably going to get pounced on as soon as they got to a room tonight.

His groin offered the opinion that a repeat of the previous night's pleasure would not be such a bad thing, but Xandrian knew that if he shared a bed with Gerren again he would want more. He already wanted more, and the intensity of his desire alarmed him.

It spoke of a growing attachment, and that was simply impossible.

He would try and find an excuse to get them all separate rooms tonight. Tomorrow it wouldn't matter any more; their nights would be spent sleeping on the ground in bedrolls, staying near each other for safety and privacy would be a joke.

There would be no warm body pressed against his, no eager mouth seeking to give him pleasure.

Xandrian shook his head to clear it. It was a dangerous distraction, he told himself firmly, and it had been a mistake to give in to it the night before, no matter how much he had enjoyed it. He felt the warmth of Gerren's gaze on him again, and he was annoyed to feel his body respond. He pulled on his reins to slow his horse down and he waved for Gerren to move ahead of him. "Go in front of me," he said.

Gerren blinked at him. "Why?" he asked. 

"Just do it." While Gerren moved past him Xandrian glanced down over the rocky ledge; it was a long way down, he noted.

There was a commotion behind them, and a man shouted "Make way! Make way!"

The four men urged their horses to move close to the inner side of the cliff.

There was a thunder of hooves as two nobles galloped by on large stallions. "I will beat you to the top, Moran!" the one man cried, and he kicked his horse's flank to make the beast gallop faster. "Never! I will be first!" The other man laughed at him and followed. Chunks of rock littered the narrow road in their wake.

Jomm shook his fist at their retreating figures. "You asses!" he yelled after them. He cursed. "Stupid, cocky nobles. It would serve them right if they brought the mountain down upon themselves, galloping on a mountain pass!"

It was certainly not a place to be reckless, Xandrian thought. They calmed their animals and moved on.

"I assume the inn is at the summit, Jomm?" H'rit asked.

"No, we won't be going to the summit; we're as high as we're going to go, and the inn is at the end of the pass. Those idiots were having a joyride, racing to the top of the mountain. We've not got far to go."

They reached a spot on the road where Jomm suggested they ride single-file. "The horses will feel better about it," he said, "and we won't have to worry about stumbling."

Jomm led the way, followed by H'rit.

Gerren stayed where he was and looked up at the mountain's summit, frowning.

"Move it," said Xandrian.

"The mountain is angry at those two men," Gerren said. He continued to stare upwards.

Xandrian rolled his eyes. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he grumbled, "mountains can't be offended that a couple of idiots rode up them too fast." He guided his horse past Gerren's and moved ahead of him. "Come on," he called as he rode ahead. "There'll be no dessert if I have to come after your ass."

There was a loud crack, and then a rumbling above them.

Gerren cried, "Xandrian!" and he leaped off his horse and raced toward the mage.

"What the fuck-" the rest of Xandrian's words were cut off when Gerren smacked his mare's rear. The horse whinnied and bolted down the path, and Xandrian watched helplessly as a torrent of rocks and small boulders rolled down the cliffside and engulfed the young man. Gerren's pony was struck by a hail of rocks and the animal stumbled and fell, screaming, into the gorge below.

_tbc.._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xandrian and H'rit deal with an unexpected setback, and Jomm starts asking some uncomfortable questions about Gerren.

"Gerren!" Xandrian yanked on his horse's reins to force her to stop, and he scrambled out of the saddle. "Gerren!" he cried again as he ran over toward the alarmingly high pile of rocks.

"Oh, sweet Maiden, a rockslide," Jomm dismounted and caught up with Xandrian. H'rit followed soon after, and the three men began feverishly removing rocks, pitching them over the side of the road.

"What happened?" H'rit asked, gasping, as he heaved a large chunk aside.

"He must've felt it coming," Xandrian managed in between wheezing breaths, and he clawed at another section of rubble. "He didn't want to ride any further. Gerren!"

"He saved your life, then," Jomm said. "If you had been there, you would be at the bottom of the gorge right now." He laid a hand on Xandrian's shoulder. "I can't see how he can be alive under there, Xan."

Xandrian shoved Jomm's hand away and continued to pull at the rocks. "Keep going," he said. Cold dread gripped him. _He can't be dead._ He grit his teeth and continued scrabbling at the pile.

"He's under a pile of rocks, Xan! There's no way-"

"Keep going!" Xandrian roared at him.

"Xandrian, I see his hand," H'rit called from the other side.

"You keep going," Xandrian hissed at Jomm, and then he ran over to join H'rit. The pain in his chest increased when he saw a still, bloody hand emerging from the rocks.

 _No. I can't lose another,_ he thought as despair threatened to overwhelm him. _I can't lose another. I can’t lose him._

"It doesn't look good, Xan," H'rit said.

Xandrian pulled at his shirt collar and yanked the lacings open with a trembling hand. He looked at his chest.

The Mark was still there, etched on pale skin high on his left breast.

"It's still there, even if it’s faint," he said. "The Mark - it's still there, and _he_ is still there." He gripped H'rit's shoulder. "Pour as much qi into him as you can, and I will continue to help Jomm. Hurry." He touched Gerren's hand. "You'd better not die, brat, you have a task to complete."

The hand twitched, and Xandrian felt relief flood through him. "Jomm! Over here!"

The tracker bounded over, and they worked ceaselessly at removing rocks while H'rit held Gerren's hand and channeled qi into him. Finally, they were able to clear away enough rubble to reveal his filthy, motionless body.

Jomm shook his head. "I can't believe he's still breathing. He should be dead."

"Well, he's not," Xandrian snapped. "Help me get him on my horse." He reached for Gerren but Jomm stayed him.

"Careful," Jomm warned him, "his back or neck might be broken. If so, you will kill him if you move him the wrong way."

H'rit moved his hands over Gerren's battered body. "There are some broken bones, but not his spine."

Xandrian turned to Jomm. "If you know the right way, then lift him up and give him to me." He strode over to his horse and settled himself in the saddle, and H'rit went over and held the reins while Jomm placed Gerren's unconscious form in Xandrian's arms. Xandrian eased his burden into a more comfortable position.

Jomm looked up at him. "You and H'rit ride ahead to the inn - it’s on this road, about a half hour’s ride. Get him settled and do what you can for him." He pointed at the summit. "I am going to find those two bastards. What goes up must come down, and I will be waiting for them." The expression on Jomm's face was dark and dangerous. "They are going to pay - in several different ways - for bringing harm to my friend." Jomm leaped onto his horse's back and took off up the path that led to the summit.

"I almost pity those men," H'rit remarked as he got up on his horse. "Almost."

"Let's go," Xandrian, and he held Gerren tight while he urged his horse to move faster along the winding mountain trail.

_Don't you die on me, brat._

* * *

It took them only twenty minutes to reach the inn, mostly because as soon as the road widened Xandrian insisted on increasing their speed to a near-gallop. There was a small village at the base of the mountain; an inn and a scattering of shops that catered to the pilgrims who were taking the pass as well as various hunters and mountaineers who were drawn to the mountains for recreation and sport.

H'rit helped Xandrian down, and they covered Gerren with a cloak to try and keep his injuries from prying eyes. They told enough of the truth to be quickly assigned a set of rooms, and servants took their horses away to the stable while the innkeeper's wife led them to one of the rooms.

The woman gasped when Gerren's cloak fell away and she saw the bloody scrapes and broken bones. "There's a doctor of sorts here, but I don't know if he'll be able to help the boy," she said. "I'll go fetch him."

H'rit stayed her with a hand on her arm. "No need," he said. "I have some skill in healing, although I would ask you to keep that to yourself, as we are traveling on pilgrimage. If you could bring us cloths and some buckets of hot water it would be appreciated."

"Of course, my lord," she said. "I understand your position; on the Pilgrim's Road a man seeks to lose his worldly self for a time. I will tend to your needs myself, so that there is no servants' talk."

"Thank you very much."

While they waited for the woman to return Xandrian and H'rit pulled the covers off the bed and settled Gerren carefully onto the mattress. Xandrian pulled out his dagger and they began to cut away Gerren’s ruined clothing.

"Here's two buckets of hot water, my lords, and some cloths." The woman came in the room, and Xandrian hastily covered the exposed Mark on Gerren’s chest with the torn remnants of his shirt.

She set the buckets down and glanced at Gerren. "Poor lad… he looks to be about my oldest's age. Here are the cloths," she said, handing the small bundle to H'rit, "and I will bring up clean sheets when you are done." She reached over and brushed a lock of Gerren's hair from his eyes. "Poor lad," she repeated, "may the Earth-Mother keep him with us. I'll see to getting him some clothing, too, and my prayers are with you, my lords."

She left the room, and the two mages set to work.

"Let me heal the main breaks first," said H'rit. "I will do most of the setting and mending on each, and you know enough that you can follow after and finish. Then while you’re doing that I will examine him for other injuries."

Xandrian nodded. "That would be best. You have the better skill but splitting our energy will keep you from overtaxing yourself."

"That, and it will be faster." He set to work on Gerren's left leg, and soon the young man's thigh was glowing with H'rit's healing energy. "It's a very good sign, Xan, that he didn't soil himself; his internal injuries might not be too bad."

"I agree," Xandrian said. He had been greatly relieved to not smell anything but blood, dirt and sweat on Gerren's body. His mind raced as he went over his small mental cache of healing spells and techniques, and he cursed himself for only learning enough to earn his Knots. When H'rit moved on to Gerren's right leg Xandrian took his place with the left and he placed his hands on the mending bones, murmuring words of healing as he channeled his qi into Gerren's body.

He closed his eyes, not so much to help him focus but to keep from staring at the limp cock that lay between Gerren's legs, which just the night before had been hard and throbbing in his hand.

The lack of distraction did help him focus, though, and as Xandrian continued to follow H'rit from bone to bone he found that the work to be calming and relaxing in spite of their urgency. He'd never really paid full attention to the process before, and Xandrian was fascinated with the way he could _feel_ the bone knitting itself back together beneath his fingertips. Muscles and skin were reacting to the healing energy, and as he worked bruises faded and skin torn by cuts and gashes slowly mended.

He was holding Gerren's arm and brushing his fingers over new skin when it occurred to him that he'd never encountered such accelerated healing before. "H'rit," he said.

"Hmm?"

"Is it supposed to be this fast? I know you're good, but it's like his body is helping us."

H'rit was working on a broken collarbone and a badly lacerated shoulder, and at Xandrian's words he sat up and inspected his earlier work.

"These are completely healed," H'rit said wonderingly, running his hand over femur, hip and ribs. "I didn't intend for that; I meant for us to start the mending process and heal him enough that we can clean him up and bandage him." He glanced back at where he had just been working. "Xan, look at him - that area is healing without me!"

The two mages watched in amazement as scratches and gashes slowly closed and mended before their eyes. Bruises began to fade.

Xandrian stared at Gerren's body. "I... I've never seen anything like this." He glanced at H'rit. "I wonder if it could be that the Agreement is not fulfilled yet," Xandrian said, musing aloud. "Perhaps this healing is because he needs the human body to complete my task."

"Did you specify mortality in your transmutation spells?" H'rit asked.

Xandrian shook his head. "No, I didn't feel the need to, since part of the Agreement is that he returns to the Abysm as soon as he completes the task. And my blood in the bond ensures that if I die before then, he would also return to the Abysm."

"I doubt that it's the Agreement, then. Right now I tend to think that he probably retained a certain… demon 'hardiness', shall we say? - when you transformed him, and his body is responding to the qi we have channeled into him. I know that demons aren't truly immortal, just extremely long-lived and difficult to kill. Keep in mind that even though you transmuted his body to a human form, at his core he is a being from beyond the Ephemera."

"True."

"One thing I can say without a doubt is that he definitely didn't want _you_ to die," H'rit said. "I turned around when he screamed your name, and I saw him strike your horse to make it bolt away. Gerren knew that rockslide was coming, and he wanted you out of its reach."

Xandrian said nothing.

H'rit examined Gerren's body again. "I think he's going to be fine, Xan - more than fine. In fact, I think he will be completely healed by morning, if not before." He rose and retrieved the still-steaming buckets of water, and then he gave Xandrian one of the cloths. "I have to say, Xandrian, that it has been fascinating to watch him during our weeks on the road. We're going to have fodder for our studies for years - you especially."

They began to wash him, and Xandrian hovered between embarrassment and distraction as he ran the warm, wet cloth over Gerren's body. He raised an arm and cleaned a firm bicep and muscled shoulder. He rinsed the cloth and lifted a leg next, washing a calf, a knobby knee and a thigh. Rinse again. He glided the cloth over a smooth, muscled chest, dusky nipples and a firm, flat abdomen.

It was unbearably intimate, and Xandrian silently cursed himself when he felt himself harden. He was grateful that H'rit took care of Gerren's privates, and then they gently rolled him onto his stomach to clean the rest of him. Xandrian swallowed with difficulty when he slid the steaming cloth over smooth, firm buttocks. He took care of Gerren's face while H'rit went to get the fresh linens and clothes that the innkeeper's wife had left outside the door.

"Here, you hold him while I re-make the bed," H'rit said, and Xandrian gathered the young man into his arms while H'rit changed the linens. Gerren's head lolled against his shoulder, and Xandrian felt the warm puffs of Gerren's breath against his neck.

Was it only a moon and a half since he had held this naked body in his arms, when he had carried the newly-human Gerren downstairs from the tower room where he had Beckoned him? Gerren's nudity hadn't affected him then.

It affected him now, for since then Xandrian had kissed those full lips, and had felt them suck on his cock. He had twined his fingers in that wild hair and had wrapped his fingers around that now-limp cock, stroking it until Gerren's spend had spurted over his hand.

Gods, it affected him now, for he was holding Gerren - naked, sleeping - close to him, and he was hard.

And he never wanted to let him go.

"There," H'rit said, "that's done. Let's get him into this nightshirt."

Xandrian helped work the garment over Gerren's head and eased his arms into the sleeves. They got him settled under the covers, and the two men sat on either side of the bed and watched the young man sleep.

Xandrian brushed damp hair away from Gerren's forehead and frowned. "What are we going to say tomorrow? Half the inn saw me carry his bloody body up here."

H'rit shrugged. "I can explain it as a head wound," he said.

Xandrian stared at him. "A head wound? You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm perfectly serious. Didn't you pay attention when we studied physiology? There's a whole network of capillaries in the scalp, and a cut there can be very minor but look like a horrific injury. He'll still have some scrapes and bruises tomorrow, and that will be convincing enough." H'rit sighed and rose from the bed. "I need to eat and go to sleep; I feel pretty drained right now, and will definitely need to recharge my qi. You'll be all right here?"

"Yes, I'll watch over him," Xandrian said. "Thank you, H'rit."

"You're welcome. I'll have a tray of food sent up to you." H'rit leaned over and smoothed an unruly lock of chestnut hair. "You know, I'm actually going to miss him when he leaves us. In many ways, he acts more 'human' than many of the real human beings I've met on this trip, and I am proud to name him a friend."

Xandrian said nothing.

"Well, goodnight, then." H'rit yawned and headed toward the door.

"Goodnight." Xandrian waited until he heard the click of the door closing, and then he got up and made himself comfortable in the room's sole chair, turning it so that it faced the bed. He tried to meditate, but the roil of thoughts and emotions inside him made it impossible.

Gerren had saved his life. And for several agonizing minutes, Xandrian had thought Gerren had died doing so.

It bothered him, the almost physical pain that had gone through him when he had seen Gerren's seemingly lifeless hand sticking out of the pile of rubble. It spoke of a strong attachment, and even stronger emotions that Xandrian didn't want to examine too closely. It was bad enough that he was physically drawn to Gerren, and he cursed at himself for giving in to their attraction, first when he had kissed Gerren the night of the storm, and then the previous night when Gerren's guileless advances had morphed into an encounter of mutual pleasure.

Xandrian wished he could write it off as a side-effect of their Agreement, but he knew he would just be deceiving himself. He had appreciated the demon's slender body when it had first materialized from the mists of the Ephemera, and he remembered a clawed finger touching his hair and a husky voice calling it 'pretty' well before they had even discussed the Agreement.

He shook his head.

"What were you thinking?" he asked the sleeping young man. "Why were you trying to save me?"

He received no answer.

He lost track of how long he sat there, watching Gerren's chest rise and fall with the even rhythm of sleep.

* * *

The setting sun was casting long shadows through the inn’s windows as H'rit took the buckets and the soiled cloths to the baths, and while he was there he disposed of Gerren's ruined clothing.

He washed up quickly, and then he rubbed his face and yawned; because of Gerren's rapid healing he hadn't expended nearly as much qi as he had anticipated, but he was weary and sore from the events of the afternoon. He glanced at the sky and realized that he and Xandrian had been working on Gerren for several hours.

Definitely time for a hot meal and some cold ale.

He saw Jomm at a table in the inn's lobby, and the tracker was not alone. The two young men who had been so arrogant and cocky earlier that day now looked pale and frightened, and the innkeeper loomed over them with folded arms while Jomm was writing a lengthy document. H'rit touched Jomm’s shoulder as he passed him, and gestured toward the dining room. Jomm nodded and kept writing.

H'rit was on his second ale and halfway through his soup when Jomm joined him.

"First of all, is Gerren still alive? Is he going to be all right?" Jomm plopped wearily onto the bench opposite H'rit.

"Yes and yes," H'rit replied, and he signaled for the girl to bring Jomm a drink.

"Thank all the gods," said Jomm. "Thank you, love," he said to the girl, and he drank deeply from his tankard. "Xandrian's with him?"

H’rit nodded. "I had dinner sent up to him a little while ago. Gerren's probably going to sleep most of the evening, but Xan wanted to stay with him."

Jomm grunted. "I just can't believe he's alive. That was a small mountain of rock we took off of him."

"I see you caught up with the joyriders," H'rit commented.

Jomm's lips thinned. "They're lucky that Gerren is alive, and that I am a reasonable man. I took them to the site of the slide, showed them the poor mess of Gerren's pony down in the gorge, and I made them clear the entire road while I watched over them."

"They're young noble-borns, then?"

"Aye, they're sons of two local nobles. They just finished their schooling, and were bored and wanted a bit of adventure on their way home."

H'rit grimaced. "Some adventure," he said. "What were you doing in the lobby?"

Jomm looked smug. "Negotiating. Neither one of the brats wants their papas to find out how stupid and careless they were."

"So they admitted to their foolishness?"

"Oh, yes; they did so after they finished puking when they saw the pile of rocks, the blood and that pitiful horse."

"What did you negotiate, then?"

"A few things," Jomm replied with a grin. "They are paying for our stay, including our meals and drinks, and they are funding the provisions I ordered from the outfitter in town. Oh, and they're giving Gerren one of their horses."

H'rit whistled.

"I'm good, aren't I? The innkeeper witnessed our agreement, and he has the two men staying here until Gerren is out of danger, for if the lad dies the agreement is null and they will be charged with his death."

H'rit shook his head. "That won't be necessary. Gerren is healing very quickly; we will most likely still be able to leave tomorrow."

Jomm stared at him. "How can that be? I mean, that's very good news, but I saw at least half a dozen broken bones."

 _What do I tell him?_ H'rit was in a quandary. He obviously couldn't say that Gerren's demon origins had helped speed up his healing. He stalled by asking a question. "Have you ever seen what a Regenerist can do?"

Jomm frowned. "You're the only proper one I've met; I've met healers before, but if they had worked on Gerren it would have taken days, and the lad would have been abed for at least a month."

"Well, I'm a little more skilled than your average healer, and Xandrian was helping me too."

Jomm took another long drink of ale, and thanked the girl when she brought his meal. "I guess Gerren is a lucky lad, then."

"He is," H'rit agreed. "You did well with those young men, Jomm; while the Archmage could certainly afford to pay for all this, I think it is only proper that they should pay for the havoc they caused."

"Aye, they paid well enough. They both have fine horses - I think I'm going to take the one gelding for myself, give Xan mine and let Gerren have Xan's mare."

"Your...negotiation fee?" H'rit said with a teasing tone.

Jomm grinned. "That's it exactly."

They finished their meals, and then the two men headed up the stairs toward their rooms. When they walked by the room where Xandrian and Gerren were staying, Jomm tugged on H'rit's sleeve. "I want to see him," he said.

H'rit nodded, and lightly knocked on the door. "Xan? Jomm would like to look in on Gerren."

There was no answer, so H'rit quietly opened the door and peered into the room, where he saw Xandrian asleep in the chair, and Gerren was still sleeping in his bed. H’rit waved at Jomm, silently beckoning him to come to the door.

The tracker peeked in the room, his gaze traveling immediately to the bed's occupant. He frowned. "He hardly looks injured," he whispered.

"He still had some bruises and scrapes," H'rit whispered back.

"Bruises and scrapes." Jomm looked at him for a long moment, glanced back at Gerren, and then shook his head. "That's some pretty damn good luck."

H'rit closed the door, and there was silence between them as they stood in the hallway.

"Is there anything you want to tell me, H'rit?" Jomm's face was missing its customary grin.

H'rit blinked. "Tell you? There's nothing to tell. I'm sure he'll be awake by morning, if not before." He glanced over at the door that led to his room. "I need to rest; I expended a very large amount of qi this afternoon, and I need to meditate and sleep." He walked to his door, opened it and looked back at the tracker. "Goodnight, Jomm. I'll see you in the morning."

The gaze that met his was unreadable. "Goodnight, H'rit."

 

_tbc…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerren wakes up, and when Xandrian questions him about the day's events he gets a surprising glimpse into the demon's heart.

When Gerren opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was whitewashed plaster and the dark beams of a ceiling. The room was lit by a single oil lamp, and its light cast long shadows on the objects in the room. He then saw a dozing mage, who was slumped in a chair next to his bed.

_ Xandrian _ . Gerren smiled. He was very glad to see that Xandrian was unhurt; in the suspended seconds when the rocks were tumbling toward him, Gerren had worried about whether he had successfully shoved Xandrian clear of the rockslide. He held up his arms and examined them. He felt some minor soreness, and some of the places where his skin was scraped were tender to touch. But he was not broken at all. He sensed the ghostly remnants of two life-energies echoing through him, and he recognized H'rit qi and … Xandrian's too, helping his body to finish mending itself.

Gerren sat up, and the rustling of his covers woke Xandrian. The mage's head jerked up, and Xandrian blinked sleepily at him.

"I am glad the rocks did not hurt you, Xandrian," Gerren said.

Xandrian scowled and pushed himself out of the chair. He strode over to the bed and loomed over Gerren. "You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?" He poked at Gerren's chest with his finger.

Gerren had not expected this reaction. "I-I … was thinking that I didn't want the rocks to hurt you," he replied. Why was Xandrian angry with him for keeping him safe?

Xandrian sighed and sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed. "You almost died. If you had been a true human you surely would have been killed—you were completely buried under a huge pile of rocks. Your horse was struck and it fell into the gorge and died."

Gerren displayed his scraped arms. "But you and H'rit mended me. I can feel H'rit's energy in me, and yours too. I only feel the pain of these marks, and even that pain is almost gone."

"That's not the point," Xandrian snapped. "It was a stupid thing to do! If your body had died, it would have voided our Agreement and you would have returned to the Abysm."

"But I had to!" Gerren protested. "I couldn't let the rocks hurt you, or make _you_ die!"

Xandrian frowned at him. "If I had died, you would have returned to the Abysm anyway."

Gerren twisted the sheets in his hands. "I didn't care if I returned," he said. "I couldn't let you die, Xan, I just couldn't!"

"What difference does it make to you whether I live or die?" Xandrian demanded.

"Because if you died, it would make me grieve!" Gerren shouted at him. His heart was pounding, and water was leaking at the edges of his eyes. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe away the water, but more kept coming out.

Xandrian was staring at him. "Make you grieve?" he repeated.

Gerren rubbed at his eyes again. "Yes," he said, quieter this time, "I would grieve. I would feel empty here"—he pressed his hand to his chest—"and I would be gray."

Xandrian touched a fingertip to Gerren’s cheek and then stared at the wetness he found there. "You're weeping," he said. He looked back up, and Gerren saw a mix of confusion and awe in the gaze that met his. "You're weeping … for me?"

"I don't want you to die, Xan," Gerren said, and he felt more water trickle down his cheek. "Please don't be angry that I tried to keep you safe."

Xandrian's hand cupped his cheek, and a callused thumb brushed the water away. "You are still an idiot. But I can't be angry with you." Xandrian moved his thumb down to slowly rub across Gerren's lower lip, and Gerren's pulse raced at the touch. "How can I be angry with someone who weeps for me?"

"Xandrian," Gerren murmured against the stroking thumb, and then he turned his face so that he could press his mouth against the palm of Xandrian's hand. He watched Xandrian's eyes darken and it excited him to see such strong emotion on the mage's face.

_ He has strong feelings right now, _ Gerren thought, _and they are for me. And he is not hiding them._

Xandrian slid his hand behind Gerren's neck and tugged him close for a long, deep kiss. It felt different than when the mage had first kissed him; that time it had been urgent, almost angry, and rough with need. This time … there was a tenderness to the way Xandrian's lips moved on his, slow and sweet, and Gerren eagerly opened his mouth so that Xandrian could plunder it with his tongue. Xandrian's other hand came up and cupped Gerren's cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone while Xandrian's tongue continued to roll and thrust into his mouth.

Xandrian slowly pulled away, and when Gerren opened his mouth to protest a finger landed on his lips.

"Wait," Xandrian said, and he brushed his fingertip across Gerren's mouth. He rose from the bed and undid the fastenings of his jerkin. He tossed the garment to the floor, and his shirt soon joined the pile. His gaze never left Gerren's as he pulled at the ties on his breeches and let them slide down past his hips, along with his drawers. They fell on the floor with a soft rustle, and then Xandrian was standing before him, naked in the flickering lamplight.

Gerren had never seen Xandrian completely naked before, and he was mesmerized by the expanse of smooth, pale skin before him. His gaze traveled over a lean, toned chest and narrow waist, across the jut of a hipbone and then down to Xandrian's cock, half-hard amidst coarse golden curls. His breath caught as he stared at the beautiful man in front of him. "Xandrian," he breathed.

Xandrian retrieved a small jar from his pack and set it on the table next to the bed, and then he pulled back the bedcovers and climbed in next to Gerren. "Take this off," he ordered, and he tugged at the hem of Gerren's nightshirt. Heart pounding, Gerren yanked the garment over his head and threw it on the floor. He gasped as Xandrian slid up against him, and he felt the warmth of Xandrian's bare skin against his. Xandrian kissed him again, and the mage's slender hand swept down to the small of his back and pulled him close.

"Mmmm," Gerren murmured against Xandrian’s mouth. "Are we going to touch each other again? Like we did last night?"

"Not like last night," Xandrian answered. "I am going to give you pleasure." He started by dropping light, teasing kisses along Gerren’s jaw and throat. Then Xandrian ran his tongue along Gerren's collarbone and down the notches in his sternum.

"I like this kissing," Gerren said. He gasped when a warm, wet tongue swiped over his nipple, and his gasp soon turned to soft pants when Xandrian's mouth closed over the sensitive nub and teased it to hardness with teeth and tongue. The mage's fingers played with the other taut peak, and Gerren sighed as the sensations from these caresses traveled down into his groin and hardened something else.

Xandrian's mouth left his nipple to lick a path over his ribs and down his abdomen. Gerren lifted his head when he heard a soft laugh emanating from near his stomach.

"W-what is it?"

Xandrian kissed the middle of his waist. "You have no navel. How could I not have noticed that?"

"N-navel?" Gerren couldn't help but squirm; not only from the sensation of Xandrian kissing his stomach, but also that Xandrian's cheek was brushing against his erection.

"Shhh, it's not important."

All thoughts of navels and stomachs went out of Gerren's mind when Xandrian's tongue ran down along his cock. The rest of the thoughts followed when Xandrian took the hardened length into his mouth and began to suck on it. Pleasure coursed through Gerren’s body, and he moaned. _This is why Xandrian made all those wonderful noises,_ he thought. _It feels so good._ It felt even better when he looked down and watched the Xandrian's mouth move over his flesh, and Gerren reached down and caressed a flushed, hollowed cheek. Remembering what he and Xandrian had done the night before, he asked breathlessly, "Can … can I touch you, l-like you … you touched me l-last night? I want to t-touch you while I g-give you my seed."

Xandrian let Gerren's length slip from his mouth, and he stroked it with his hand while he replied huskily, "No. I will have my pleasure a different way."

Xandrian's mouth closed around him again, and the heat in Gerren’s groin became a blazing knot. Gerren barely noticed when Xandrian reached for the small jar, and when Xandrian's hand moved down between his legs, he gasped when a slippery finger pushed inside him. It felt strange at first, but then it began to feel good… _very_ good, especially while Xandrian continued to lick and suck at his erection. Another finger joined the first, and when they began to slide in and out of him the knot in his groin unraveled, sending heat blazing through him. Gerren groaned and arched his back, shuddering from the waves of pleasure that ran through him while he came into Xandrian's mouth. Xandrian swallowed his release, and his fingers continued to move inside Gerren.

"Ohhh," Gerren said with a sigh. "I like this … I like this very much."

Xandrian's fingers kept moving while he kissed his way back up Gerren's body, and then Xandrian's breath was hot against Gerren’s ear as the mage whispered, "I want to fuck you."

"Fuck?" Gerren managed, gasping when Xandrian licked the shell of his ear and began to suck on his earlobe.

Xandrian pressed his fingers deeper inside. "I want to put my cock inside you."

"Mmmm," Gerren arched his back again when he felt a jolt of pleasure at the touch. "You want to couple with me." Gerren knew about coupling, and it excited him that Xandrian wanted to give him his seed that way.

"Yes." Another press, another jolt.

"Oh, yes, _please_ ," Gerren moaned. "Couple-fuck with me."

Xandrian's mouth sought his, kissing him hungrily. "Here," he whispered against Gerren's mouth, "move over here, like this." He broke off their kiss and guided Gerren to his hands and knees, and soon Xandrian was kneeling behind him and slowly pushing his hard length into Gerren's body.

Back in the Abysm there had been a few times when Gerren had encountered other demons coupling. He had even watched two humans couple once—although from afar, through the mists of the Ephemera. It seemed to be a pleasurable pastime in an otherwise lonely and desolate place. But Gerren had never been taken, never had a hard cock inside his body, and he was glad that this beautiful human was the first to do so - to couple with him, to fuck him. He felt the burn of muscles stretching; it was a delicious pleasure-pain that increased when Xandrian began to move inside him, slow and deep, and soon the pain was forgotten and there was nothing but pleasure. Gerren moaned again, loudly.

"Hush." Xandrian thrust in deeply and he leaned over Gerren's back to nip at Gerren's shoulder. "Not so loud." He licked the back of Gerren's neck and continued moving against him, inside him.

How could he be quiet? It felt so good, especially when Xandrian grasped his hips and began to move harder and faster against him. The jolts of pleasure started again, and Gerren couldn't help the noises that escaped him with every thrust, every slap of Xandrian's flesh against his.

And Xandrian was making noises too. Gerren heard grunts and gasps, and when he started rocking back against Xandrian's hips they changed to low, husky groans. He smiled. They were wonderful noises, for they told Gerren that Xandrian was taking pleasure from the couple-fucking. He would not tell Xandrian to hush, for he wanted to hear every sound that proved the mage's enjoyment of his body.

Gerren had never felt such pleasure. His flesh had hardened again, and he felt his insides begin to curl and tighten, bringing him closer and closer to a second climax. He groaned when Xandrian's fingers closed around his aching length and stroked him, and he let himself be carried over the edge of release. Gerren shuddered and came, and a few moments later Xandrian made a choking noise and was still, his hips pressing hard against Gerren’s body. Heat bloomed in Gerren's belly, and his shaking arms gave out. He landed face down on the bed with Xandrian on top of him, and for a few moments they lay there, panting, their bodies still joined.

"I like having your cock inside me," Gerren said when he could speak.

"Mmmf," Xandrian mumbled against the nape of Gerren's neck.

A few minutes later, Gerren squirmed when Xandrian's body began to feel too heavy, and Xandrian rolled off of him and onto his back. For a time there were no words between them, just breathing. When Gerren felt like he could move his body again he scooted closer to Xandrian and propped himself up on his elbows while he gazed at the mage, at his flushed face and swollen, reddened lips. Xandrian's eyes were closed, long eyelashes fanning over pink cheeks.

_ So beautiful. _ Gerren marveled at how pleasure had transformed Xandrian; right now there was no hardness to him at all, and Gerren liked that Xandrian was letting him see this softer, wanton part of him. "You are different with me tonight," he said. "There is something in your face and your eyes that I did not see this morning." He couldn't explain the emotion he had seen on Xandrian's face, or the way it made his heart pound.

Xandrian's eyes opened. "When I saw you lying under all those rocks, I thought you were dead." Xandrian brushed sweaty locks of hair from Gerren's forehead, and he leaned over to press a kiss to the scraped skin. "It made me … sad."

Gerren placed his hand on Xandrian's chest. "You were sad here? And empty?"

"Yes," Xandrian whispered against his temple, and he drew Gerren close to rest against him.

Gerren blinked. "You... grieved for me?"

"Yes." This time Xandrian's voice was muffled against Gerren's neck. "And, damn me, I grieved for you more than I did for Homis."

Gerren felt a strange tightness in his chest at Xandrian's words. He knew how much strong emotion Xandrian had for the smiling man, his father-master, and now Xandrian was saying that he had felt more emotion for Gerren?

Xandrian spoke again. "I didn't want to lose someone again. I didn't want to lose you."

The tightness turned to a hollow pang. "But you will lose me when our Agreement is over," Gerren said sadly, fingering the amulet that hung about his neck. "I will return to the Abysm."

"I know." Xandrian touched the piece of clay.

"I don't want to leave you."

"I know. But you must."

"Will you grieve for me then?"

"Yes, damn you." Xandrian kissed him again, and Gerren tasted sadness and desperation in it. Gerren eagerly kissed him back, all teeth and tongue, and he groaned when Xandrian rolled over and pinned him. It was like that first time again; hard kisses and rough hands, and Xandrian's teeth grazing his skin. A hungry mouth sucked at the tender juncture of neck and shoulder and Gerren groaned when Xandrian's teeth sank into his skin.

Gerren reached down between them, and he felt hardness in his hand. "Xan, do it again," he said. "Couple with me once more, put your cock back inside me and fuck me." He scrambled back onto his knees, this time resting on his elbows, and then he wriggled his hips. He let out a squeak when Xandrian delivered a smack to his bare ass.

"Greedy brat," said the mage, but he was smiling. He rose and kissed the small of Gerren's back, and then he gripped Gerren's hips.

A loud “Ahhhh,” escaped Gerren’s throat when Xandrian entered him with a single thrust. “Oh, _yes_.”

"Hush," Xandrian whispered hoarsely.

"No, I will not hush," Gerren said, panting, as he clutched at the bedsheets and pushed back against Xandrian’s hips. "I want you to hear my pleasure. And I want to hear yours."

"Bossy brat."

* * *

They woke just before dawn, and leisurely kissed and fucked for the better part of an hour. Xandrian then sent Gerren off to the bath to wash while he packed their things, and when Gerren returned Xandrian went to the bath and had the servant fill a tub for him. When the bath was ready he settled into the steaming water and sighed contentedly.

_ Content? _

He frowned. _How can I be content?_ he accused himself. He was still missing his books, his studies were at a standstill and he had spent the last month and a half in a different bed every night. And last night, he had fucked a demon he had made an Agreement with.

Several times.

Fucked him this morning, too.

Xandrian closed his eyes and smiled. Yes; right here, right now, he was sated and … content. He decided that he would let himself feel that way for now, for today they would leave the Pilgrim's Road and there would be no more inns or soft beds. And soon there would be no more Gerren; they would either be successful and Xandrian would lose him when he returned to the Abysm, or they would fail—and Xandrian would die and lose him anyway. 

His smile faded.

A couple of days. Maybe a week. Soon it would be over, one way or another, and Xandrian refused to regret what he had done.

The water was starting to cool, so Xandrian finished his ablutions, dressed and returned to his room, where he found Gerren curled on top of the bed, sleeping. He reached out and touched damp chestnut locks. On a sudden impulse, Xandrian unsheathed his dagger and cut off a small length, and then he wrapped the hair in a bit of cloth and tucked it away inside the inside pocket of his jerkin. He put the dagger away and then gently shook Gerren's shoulder.

Eyes the color of warm honey met his, and Gerren smiled sleepily at him.

Xandrian leaned down and gave him a swift, hard kiss. "Come on, let's get breakfast," he said.

Gerren's smile widened, and he hopped off the bed and gathered their things.

Jomm and H'rit were already eating when they entered the dining room, and H'rit waved them over when he saw them. Jomm was unsmiling, and his gaze followed Gerren as they walked over and joined them at the table.

Gerren sat down on the bench, and Xandrian was about to sit as well when Jomm abruptly rose to his feet.

"I need to have a word with you," he said to Xandrian. "Alone. Now."

Xandrian frowned. What the hell was with Jomm? "Very well," he replied. He turned to Gerren. "Stay here with H'rit and get something to eat."

Gerren blinked at him and yawned. "All right. What's the matter, Jomm?"

"Never you mind," the tracker said. "Xandrian?" He turned on his heel and left through the great room's back door, which led to a small courtyard.

Xandrian frowned at his retreating figure, and he looked at H'rit. "Do you know what this is about?"

"No idea," his friend replied. "But he's upset about something - he's been wound up ever since I came downstairs." H'rit reached over and brushed Gerren's hair away from his forehead. "My goodness, Gerren, you've healed so quickly! It hardly looks like you were hurt at all."

"You're a good healer, H'rit," Gerren said.

Xandrian left them and headed out to the courtyard, where he found Jomm leaning against a whitewashed stone wall, his thumbs hooked in his belt.

"What is he?" Jomm asked flatly, staring ahead.

Xandrian's frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"

Jomm looked over at him, his lip curled in scorn. "Your little pet. What the fuck is he? One thing I know, he isn't human."  
  
 _tbc..._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jomm confronts Xandrian about Gerren's too-quick recovery, and the travelers leave the Pilgrim's Road. 4,100 words.

_ “One thing I know, he isn't human.” _

Xandrian tensed at the question. _Shit_ , he thought. He had realized that Jomm would eventually figure out that something was different about Gerren--the man _was_ extremely observant--but he hadn't expected this hostility. "What makes you think Gerren’s not human, Jomm?" Xandrian asked carefully.

"Oh, a number of things, but the one that sticks out in my mind the most is that he should have died yesterday. Or, even if he had lived, he should be so badly broken that he would not be able to continue with us. Yet this morning he is sitting with us, no doubt about to eat a large breakfast, and all there is to show that he was buried under a rockslide yesterday is some scrapes, bruises and a bit of a limp."

And the limp had nothing to do with the accident, Xandrian knew, but everything to do with Xandrian fucking Gerren several times during the night.

And this morning.

Not that he was going to share that information with Jomm. "H'rit is almost a Master Regenerist," Xandrian said. "You saw the qi he was pouring into Gerren yesterday."

"There is that. However, there are other things that I’ve noticed during our little jaunt that have never quite added up about your 'servant', and if you want me to take you and your friend to that wizard you're after, you will tell me what he is. It's that simple. You don't tell me, I leave this morning without you. I will travel back to the Collegium and give Kisannon back the deposit she paid me."

Xandrian sighed. The bastard was going to be difficult, and there was no way he and H'rit could continue on without Jomm's skills with the land and his sword. Jomm had him by the balls, and he knew it, too. Xandrian leaned against the wall and looked over at Jomm. "You're right, he was not born a human," he said, choosing his words with care.

Jomm's head swiveled to face him. "'Not born a human' … now that's an interesting phrase. Explain that one to me."

"He is human now."

"No, he's not. You might have magicked him to look like one, even smell and act like one--no, I'm going to leave out 'act like one', because that is the biggest thing that isn't right about him. He might have passed fine with anyone else; but me, I'm an observant bastard."

_ Yes, you are, _ Xandrian silently agreed. What was he going to tell Jomm? It was going to have to be as much of the truth as he was able to reveal. "I can't tell you what he is."

"Sure you can. You open your mouth and you say, 'Jomm, Gerren is really a--' and you fill in the blank."

Xandrian grit his teeth. "I cannot tell you what he is. I have concealed his true nature for now, until I have need of him, and there is a geis in place to keep that nature from being accidentally revealed too soon."

Jomm frowned. "A geis?"

"A … blocking, if you will. It prevents him from accidentally saying anything regarding his true nature."

"A smart move, I'd say--the boy is a talker. Are you under this geis as well?"

"No. But I am the one who created it, and I am concerned that if I tell you what I have concealed, it will weaken the geis and possibly even break it." Xandrian leaned in, closer than he would prefer, and whispered, "I do not want Nikolon to know what he is until it is too late."

Russet eyes widened, and Jomm whispered back, "You’re going to use him as a weapon?"

"Of sorts."

Jomm eyed him appraisingly. "You are a sneaky bastard."

"Yes."

"I’ve tried to get H'rit to tell me over the past few weeks, but he's silent as the grave. Does he know?"

"Yes."

"So you deliberately excluded me."

"I deliberately did not include you. You were a stranger to us." Xandrian moved back to leaning against the wall. "You aren't a stranger any more; but truly, I can’t tell you, Jomm. I can't risk it--not when we're so close. I'm sorry." Xandrian looked away and focused his attention on the fruit trees over by the half-wall of the courtyard. He could feel Jomm's gaze on him.

"You would tell me if it wouldn't possibly weaken your spell?"

Xandrian nodded. "Yes; you have earned our trust over these past weeks. And whatever he is, Jomm, know that he considers you his friend."

Jomm eyed him again. "What does he consider you? His master?"

"No," the mage replied. "He is serving me right now, but he is not my slave. He is here willingly."

Jomm pushed himself away from the wall. "Yes, I would agree with that, from what I've seen. He does what he's told, but it’s because he wants to please you and H'rit."

"And you as well."

The tracker gave him a half-smile. "And me as well. But I would say, good mage, that if he considers me his friend, he considers you one of his 'treasures.’ If I thought he was human, I would say he was in love with you."

Xandrian blinked at him. _Love? How could a demon love?_

The half-smile grew to a grin. "You scholars are a treat to watch, you know that? That 'boy' has been besotted for weeks." Jomm cocked his head. "And I would say that you are similarly affected."

Xandrian was mortified to feel heat rise in his cheeks.

Jomm laughed.

Xandrian's scowl returned, and then he too pushed away from the wall. "Have I told you enough? Are you staying with us?"

"What, me leave? And miss all this? I think I'll stick around, my friend." He clapped Xandrian on the back. "I appreciate the honesty that you could give me. If I happen to guess, will you acknowledge it?"

Xandrian nodded.

"That's all I can ask for, then. Let's go inside and get some breakfast in you - it'll be your last good one for awhile."

* * *

The land was very different on this side of the pass. Gone were the lush, leafy green hills and valleys of the lowlands; now they traveled over a rolling, grassy plain that was spotted with scrubby brush and clusters of towering pines. A bubbling, rushing river was on their right, twisting and winding past boulders and tall redwood trees. They had already discovered that its water was fresh but bitterly cold. The road they followed was more of a suggestion than anything else; a rutted, barely discernible track in the scrubby, stunted grass that covered the ground.

"My goodness, it's like we’re in another country here," H'rit said, and he pulled his cloak tighter around him. "It's at least twenty degrees colder, and the air is much drier. I'm glad that your order with the outfitter included warmer clothes." He fingered the fur-lined tunic he wore underneath his wool cloak.

"We're in the Northern Taiga now," Jomm said, waving a hand at their surroundings. "We're at a higher elevation, even in these mountain foothills. It doesn't rain nearly so often out here, so we should be good weather-wise. It will be colder at night, though. Winter is harsher in the Taiga, and longer; it's a good thing we're traveling now, for if we'd waited any longer we'd have to worry about snow."

"Snow?" Gerren asked.

Jomm blinked at him, but when he opened his mouth to tease the young man he glanced over at Xandrian and reconsidered. Instead he pointed at the mountain range that lay ahead of them in the distance. "See that white on the tops of those mountains?" At Gerren's nod he continued, "That's snow--it's rain that gets so cold that it makes tiny little flakes. Remember that sweetened shaved ice that you had for dessert a few weeks ago? Imagine the whole land covered in that shaved ice, and that's snow. But without the sweet syrup."

Gerren stared at the mountains in awe. "Can we go closer to it? I would like to touch snow."

Jomm laughed. "No, lad, we're not going that far. We're headed for that valley over there"--he pointed over at a rocky region to the northwest of their position--"and you can see that those mountains aren't high enough to have snow all year long. We might have some snow on our trip back, though; it will be cold enough for snow soon."

Gerren's smile faded. "Oh," he said. "I am glad I got to see it, even if it is far away."

Jomm frowned at the remark, and at the wistfulness on Gerren's face. It was almost as if he didn't expect to be returning.

"Tonight is the only night we'll be sleeping out in the open," Jomm said. "I found a few places where hunters have made crude stone shelters, and there are some decent-sized, empty caves when we get closer, when we start getting into those foothills." He gestured again to the northwest.

"'Empty' caves," Xandrian repeated. "What's in them when they're not empty?"

"Bears, usually," Jomm said with a grin.

"Bears?" Gerren piped up, immediately interested.

"Oh, hell, no--you are not touching a bear," Xandrian stated. "And speaking of wild animals, there will be no more exploring by yourself during our rest breaks, Gerren."

They rode on for a few more hours, and then Jomm pointed over to a spot where there was a cluster of large boulders. "I suggest we stop there for the night; the rocks will shelter us from the wind on three sides, and it's close to the river too."

Xandrian looked at the sky. "Don't we have a few more hours of daylight?" he asked.

Jomm shrugged. "Yes, but I still think we should stop here. You three have never camped before, so this will be your first time readying a campsite. We have to get firewood, prepare a fire ring, clear out our sleeping area, and other chores. At some point we need to decide on our watch order for sleeping."

"You're the expert," the mage replied with a shrug of his own.

They reached the boulders, and spent the next hour clearing the ground of small rocks. When they were done Gerren and H'rit gathered firewood while Jomm dug out a circular patch on the ground and surrounded it with small rocks. "Our firepit," he explained when they returned, and he had them set the wood nearby. They tethered the horses to a small rise of trees that rose near the rocks, giving the beasts enough slack to graze and drink freely.

Jomm heard Xandrian call H'rit over to him, and the two mages talked together quietly while they retrieved their packs. Jomm was about to ask them what they were talking about when Xandrian stood and faced Jomm.

"Is this our final setup?" Xandrian asked, waving a hand to indicate their campsite.

"Pretty much, yes."

"Will we stay in this spot the entire night?"

Jomm nodded. "We have all our water, and the horses are set. If we need to take a piss we can go behind that one rock in the back there."

"Good," the mage replied. "H'rit, we might as well get started. You two stay put." 

Jomm watched with interest as Xandrian walked around and scratched strange symbols on the ground, forming a perimeter around their camp. The mage's lips moved ceaselessly, and after drawing each mark with the point of his dagger, he traced it with his finger. They glowed with a pale white light after he finished. H'rit followed behind him, and touching each glowing symbol and releasing a small ball of qi above it.

Jomm was dying to ask questions, but he knew better than to interrupt them. He sat with Gerren and made sure the young man didn't interrupt them either. He poked Gerren in the ribs and pointed at the darkening sky. "You'll get a good view tonight," he said quietly.

"View of what?" Gerren asked in equally hushed tones.

Jomm waved his hand in a giant arc above him. "The stars; they’re starting to be visible. See over there, that fat, bright one? That one is called The Scout, because it is always the first star seen in the sky. Here in the Northern Taiga, the stars shine bigger and brighter than any other place in our land."

Gerren gaped at the sky. "How big?"

"It will seem like you can pluck them out of the sky with your fingers."

"Do all the stars have names, Jomm? Will you tell them to me?"

"I'll tell you the ones I know," Jomm replied. "There are also stars that are grouped together and look like an animal, or an object, and those groups have names too." Gerren's eyes were shining with excitement as he eyed the sky, and Jomm realized that he liked showing Gerren things, and that he enjoyed the young man's enthusiasm. Times like this, Jomm could almost forget that Gerren wasn't human. Whatever he was, Jomm was fond of him.

He wondered what would happen to the boy when Xandrian broke the enchantment.

"There." Xandrian rose and slapped the dust off his breeches. He helped H'rit up. "That was a good idea of yours to charge my glyphs with your qi."

"It can't hurt," H'rit said. "It should make them that much stronger."

"We're allowed to talk now?" Jomm asked.

A golden eyebrow lifted. "You two idiots have been talking the whole time I was spellscribing," Xandrian said.

"Ha ha. I mean talk to _you_. Ask you what the hell you two have been doing for the last half hour."

"Xandrian wrote a protective ward around our campsite, Jomm, and I reinforced it with my qi," H'rit said, and he sat down heavily on the ground next to Jomm. He pointed at the stone firepit Jomm had made. "If you get the wood readied in there, I can send fire to it."

"What does the ward do?"

"If anyone--or anything--walked by here now, they would see an illusion of this spot, and would not see or hear us at all," said Xandrian, and he sat down as well. Gerren scrambled over to sit beside him. "They would also have an overwhelming urge to leave right away. H'rit added his energy to strengthen my spells, so we’ll all be able to get a decent night's sleep without worrying about keeping watch. Just don't cross the glyphs. Gerren,"--he reached over and mussed the young man's hair--"that means you too. Stay away from the glyphs. If they're crossed it won't break the ward, but you won't be able to get back in."

"That's pretty handy," Jomm said. "You've got some talent there, mage."

"So I've been told."

H'rit started the fire, and as the sun set Jomm passed out the evening's provisions. There was a companionable silence while the four men sat around the fire and ate their meal.

"Jomm," Xandrian asked, "from what you've said, I estimate we are less than a week away from our destination. Am I correct?"

"A couple of nights, actually, depending on if we make good time during the day--which I think we will," Jomm replied. He saw Xandrian’s brow crease in thought. "What is it?"

"I think it would be a good idea for me to start trying to find his traps," the mage said.

Jomm waggled a finger at him. "But I got right up to where he is living."

"Are you a mage?"

"Not the last time I checked."

"It's possible that he has enspelled places or things that will tell him if a mage is coming close to him," Xandrian explained. "Personally, if it were me and there was the possibility of anyone coming after me, I would spell half the land between here and where I'm holed up."

Jomm glanced at H'rit, who nodded in agreement. "It's what I would do, too."

Jomm considered the matter. "What will it involve? How much will it delay us?"

Xandrian shrugged. "It might take an hour, possibly a bit more. I've been studying for this for the past week or so and I think I will only need to do the meditation a couple of times per day. It will allow me to reach out with my magic and sense spells that are left by another mage. But I will have to sit still, and have no interruption while I am casting out my senses. I think I can do it over a decent range; we'll find out tomorrow."

The tracker shrugged. "If it's only an hour or two that won't impact us. Besides, I imagine that we’ll be waiting at least another day or two once we get there, so we can make our plans. And I assume you are being smart and not making any plans until you see the lay of the land--if not, I will laugh at you and make you scrap them." He wasn't surprised to see Xandrian's nod; by this time Jomm knew them well enough to know that neither man was the type to fly headlong into known danger. 

"Our biggest problem is our lack of knowledge about him,” Xandrian said. “I knew him when I was very young--he was just starting as my Master's journeyman then--and from that many years ago I can only say that he was ambitious and thirsty for knowledge--"

"As all mages are," H'rit said, interrupting him.

"As we all are," Xandrian agreed, "but he always wanted to be taught things before my master wanted to teach them to him. He was impatient, and he used to become very upset when he was told 'no.'"

"Ah," said Jomm. "That explains a lot. The Archmage said he was a former apprentice of all the mages he attacked and stole books from. Guess he wasn't happy that they _all_ told him 'no.'"

"He wasn't." Xandrian drew his knees to his chest and stared at the fire. "That night he was screaming at my master, raging at him for denying him the spells. He kicked at him as well, after he struck him down with some horrible cutting-light spell that I'd never seen before. He kicked me too, and ranted that _he_ should have been Homis’ heir, not I."

Jomm saw anguish cross the young mage's face, and he grimaced. Kisannon had told him that Xandrian had been conscious and paralyzed during the entire attack; Jomm couldn't imagine the horror of being forced to watch something like that happen to a parent, adopted or no. "This is good information, Xan," he said. "We know that he is impatient, and that he doesn't have control over himself. From what you and Kisannon have told me, it sounds like one too many masters turned him down, and he had a massive, deadly temper tantrum."

Xandrian nodded. "I would agree with that."

"A man who lacks control will strike wildly, and that makes him dangerous. But I would much rather fight a angry, scorned man than someone who was just methodically killing mages and taking their books. He is emotional about it, and most likely jealous of you--which would explain why he tried to kill you."

"He _did_ kill the other journeymen," H'rit said quietly. "We only survived because our masters tricked him into thinking we were dead."

Jomm nodded. "He killed the people who were in what he saw to be his rightful place, in addition to the people who took that place away from him. He will be angry again when he finds out that he was tricked, and that you are alive." Jomm turned to Xandrian. "So, these books he stole … do you think he is able to use them?"

Xandrian shrugged. "I honestly can't say. I would like to think that when Homis made the decision to not teach him further that he would have gone beyond not naming him a Reader, and would have Banned him from all his books as well. I can't speak for Kanera; I didn’t know her as well as H’rit did. I apprenticed for my Healing Knots under Master Tivosh."

"I worry about that, with her … my books," H'rit said. "Kanera had a kind soul, and she did not know Nikolon like Homis did. She might not have protected her books from him, because she might have thought that her denial was sufficient." He glanced at Xandrian. "I do think that Homis would have Banned him."

Jomm tried to keep up with the conversation. Gerren, he noticed, had given up entirely and was staring at the fire, poking at it with a long stick. "So if he was banned, he would have to try and get around the magic?"

"Yes," answered both mages.

“Did you two ban him? The books are yours now, right?”

“We did, almost right away,” H'rit said. "Xandrian and I recited the Banning spell, but we’re not really sure if it worked, since we were so far away from them." He looked over at Xandrian. “We should probably do it again, when we’re closer.”

“That’s a good idea, H’rit,” Xandrian said, and he clapped his friend on the back.

"So," Jomm said slowly, "if the spell _did_ work, then he can’t read your books."

Two nods. “All he’ll see is blank paper,” Xandrian added.

"Unless you name him a Reader, and right now he thinks he killed you both."

Two more nods.

Jomm realized he was learning more about mage hierarchy and succession than a non-mage was probably supposed to know. He briefly wondered if some of those 'permissions' could be made to work for maps and such, and made a mental note to ask about that later. "This could work to our advantage. He won't want to kill off someone who could be tortured into making him a Reader."

"Thanks for that comforting thought, Jomm," said Xandrian.

It was full dark now, and the four men readied themselves for sleep. They arranged their bedrolls around the firepit, and when Gerren made to move his so that he would be laying with his head near Xandrian's, Jomm stopped him. "Let's let them rest. Sleep over here near me and I will tell you about the stars while our two beauties get their sleep."

Gerren's smile flashed white in the firelight, and he quickly switched his sleeping position and burrowed under his blankets.

"Shut up, Jomm," Xandrian mumbled.

Jomm and Gerren grinned at each other. "Come on then, scoot over here," Jomm whispered. When Gerren had complied he continued, "All right now, I want you to duck under the covers for a few minutes and keep you eyes closed. Don't poke your head out until I say.”

Gerren obeyed, but his muffled voice drifted through the blankets. "I thought you were going to show me the stars, Jomm."

"Aye, I will, but you're been staring at the fire. Doing this will help you see the stars better."

"Oh. All right."

Jomm made him wait a few minutes longer than necessary, just to make him squirm. He remembered when he had first seen the stars properly, when his uncle had done this very thing with him. His uncle had also tormented him by keeping him under his blanket far longer than he needed to be. He smiled at the memory.

"All right, now, Gerren; I want you to come out from under the covers and look straight up at the sky--not at the fire."

Jomm heard the soft rustle of wool and then he heard Gerren gasp.

"Jomm … it's beautiful." 

Gerren shifted, and Jomm saw the silhouette of Gerren's hand reaching toward the sky.

"I feel like I can reach out and touch them, Jomm."

There was wonder in the young man's voice, and Jomm smiled again. "Hush now," he said quietly, "and I'll tell you about some of them. See that group over there? That is called the Western Stallion. See how it looks like a horse that's reared up on its hind legs?"

"It does!"

"This one over there …" Jomm continued to point out constellations and whisper their names. It did not escape his attention that their two other companions had surreptitiously followed his instructions and were now gazing at the night sky as well.

_ tbc… _


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xandrian gets distracted while he searches for spell-traps, and Jomm takes the travelers into the mountain valley.

They set out the next morning at first light, after a cold breakfast and a quick wash in the freezing waters of the river.

It was slow going compared to traveling on the Pilgrim’s Road. Here the road was a barely-used ruin, and they had to carefully guide their horses along the rutted, pebble-strewn tracks. Gerren shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and absently rubbed at a sore spot on his thigh; he was unused to riding Xandrian’s mare and his muscles were complaining from being on a larger horse. He missed his pony.

“Hold up a minute, Gerren—let me adjust your stirrups.” Jomm rode up alongside him and dismounted, and then he reached for the buckles that held the stirrups in place. “I’ve been watching you squirm half the morning.”

“Gray Girl is bigger than Blackie was,” Gerren said. He patted the mare’s neck to apologize for the complaint.

“Yes she is, and your arse isn’t used to her yet,” Jomm said while he fiddled with the straps.

“I miss Blackie.”

“I know, lad,” Jomm said. “He was a good pony. But I’m happy that _you’re_ still with us.” He moved around to the horse’s other side and made some more adjustments. “Here, try this.”

Gerren put his feet back in the stirrups. That felt much better! “Thank you, Jomm,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” Jomm got back on his horse and rode ahead of him.

Gerren was glad that Jomm was friendly with him again, and he wondered what had made the tracker so angry with him the previous morning. In spite of Jomm’s tendency to boss him around, Gerren liked the man and enjoyed learning things from him. Especially last night. Gerren looked up at the clear morning sky and remembered how it had looked in the darkness; when the stars had splashed the sky like glittering stones above him, seemingly close enough to touch.

Their morning ride was uneventful, and just before midday they stopped  in a clearing near the bank of the river. Large boulders were everywhere, scattered about on the ground as if dropped from the sky. The men perched on a few of the mid-size rocks while they ate their meal of cheese and assorted cured meats, and they finished the last of the fresh rolls.

Xandrian ate his food quickly and rose from the boulder he was sitting on. “I’m going to do another trap-spell search. We’re at the edge of where I scanned this morning, so I think this session will carry us to where we will stop for the night.” He then walked a short distance away and sat down on the grass, cross-legged, and faced the valley that was their destination.

The others took their time finishing their meal.

“All right, then,” H’rit said quietly when they were done, and he began to gather up the remains of their lunch. “I’ll go wash our things and fill our waterskins. It took him almost an hour this morning, so we might as well rest while we wait.”

“Nap time,” Jomm agreed, and he leaned back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. “Don’t wander too far, Gerren, and make sure you don’t bother Xan.”

“I won’t,” Gerren said. He got up and spent some time walking along the river bank, looking around for interesting things to put in his pouch. The rocks were ugly here, though, and he found nothing worth keeping. Peeking through the trees, Gerren looked back at the clearing where Jomm slept; H’rit had joined the tracker and was dozing as well.

He glanced over at Xandrian and found him sitting perfectly still, his hands resting on his thighs, palms upraised. His eyes were closed and every now and then his lips would move, silently chanting a spell.

Gerren clambered over the rocky river bank and found a sunny spot where he could rest and watch the mage.

Gerren liked to watch Xandrian use his magic, to see and feel the change in his aura. While Xandrian always had a noticeable aura of power, it increased when he was actively working a spell. Gerren was fascinated by the humans’ magic, as it was very different from his own. Xandrian and H’rit spent many hours studying their books, and most of their spells required them to speak strange words or make mysterious gestures or drawings; he had to do none of that when he was in his true form. Gerren fished the clay amulet out from under his shirt and examined it. Even now, after wearing it for almost two moons, it still hummed with power.

Power was shimmering around Xandrian now, and it raised the small hairs on Gerren’s arms and made the back of his neck tingle. It was making other things tingle too, and Gerren’s breeches felt tighter as an erection began to strain against the worn cotton. He brushed a lazy hand over his stiffening member, and his eyes slid shut at the pleasure the touch caused.

He wondered if he could get Xandrian to couple with him, later, when it was dark. While gazing at the stars the previous night had been wonderful, Gerren had missed sharing Xandrian’s bed, missed being pressed against the mattress while Xandrian thrust deep inside him. At the very least, Gerren wanted to have the mage’s cock in his mouth again. He wanted to run his tongue along hardened flesh and listen to Xandrian’s pleasure-noises while he tasted the bitter-salt tang of his seed.

His own cock twitched in approval of the idea.

Jomm’s horse nickered softly, and the noise brought Gerren’s attention back to where Jomm and H’rit were resting. He eyed the other two men, and a small frown furrowed his brow. They would most likely all be sleeping close to each other again tonight, he realized, and he remembered what Xandrian had told him about their pleasure being a private thing. There was no ‘private’ here.

So there would probably be no couple-fucking.

Probably no hot, hard cock in his mouth either.

Gerren sighed and rolled onto his back, and he watched the clouds drift in the sky above him. They were big and white, and they reminded him of the mashed potatoes he would sometimes have for supper. He marveled at how the air would become cool when the clouds covered the sun, and then become warm against when the sun re-appeared. The feel of the sun on his skin made him sleepy, and so he closed his eyes and slept.

“Get up, lazybones!” Jomm nudged him none too gently in the ribs with a booted foot. “Time to go.”

“Hey!” Gerren protested. “I’m not lazy! You were sleeping too.” He scrambled up off the ground and swatted bits of grass from his breeches, and then he followed Jomm to where H’rit and Xandrian were standing by their horses.

“—at least two of them,” Xandrian said to H’rit.

“You found something?” Jomm walked around the horses and made a quick check of straps and bits.

“Yes,” the mage replied, and he shot Gerren a sharp look. “I sensed a suspicious spot over there”—he pointed to an area off in the distance ahead of them—“and another further north.”

Jomm raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight and looked where Xandrian was pointing. “We won’t need to worry about the second one, I think; we’ll be veering off and heading into the valley in a couple of hours. There used to be a merchants’ road further up, that’s probably where he figured most people would go. You think the first one is before then?”

Xandrian nodded.

“Hunh,” Jomm said. “I must’ve been lucky, then. Maybe I missed them because I didn’t take that road.”

“That’s probably why,” Xandrian agreed. “Now that I’ve sensed that spot I’ll know when we’re getting close to it.”

“All right then; let’s get going. You and I will ride point, so that you can stop us when necessary.” Jomm swung up onto his saddle, and the others did the same.

Jomm and Xandrian started off down the track, and as Xandrian rode by he glanced at Gerren again. It was a strange look, Gerren thought; there was annoyance in the glance, but a flash of heat as well.

“Come on, Gerren,” H’rit called.

Gerren patted the mare and followed.

They traveled for another three hours before Xandrian stopped them. The mage dismounted and walked over to a  cluster of tall pine trees, and then he took out his dagger and scratched glyphs in the dirt in a v-shape in front of them while he murmured accompanying spells. When he finished he traced a design in the air, spoke a strange, garbled word and touched the point of the glyph pattern with his index finger.

The trees suddenly glowed a bright, crimson red, and the glow slowly faded until it disappeared entirely.

Xandrian looked back at the other men. “This one’s gone now.” He pointed further up the rutted track. “We’re not going on that far, are we, Jomm?”

Jomm shook his head and gestured at a rocky cliff-face that was ahead of them to the northwest. “We’re going that way. The old shepherd’s trail is coming up in about two miles, and that will take us to where we want to be.”

“Good,” Xandrian said.

Gerren thought Xandrian looked tired, and he noticed that his normally strong aura was pale. “Are you all right, Xan?”

“I’m fine. It just took a little more effort than I expected.”

“Here, let me give you some qi,” H’rit said, and he started to walk toward Xandrian.

Xandrian waved him off. “Don’t bother. We’ll be stopping in a few more hours, and it’s not like I’m walking.” He climbed back on his gelding and extended his hand, indicating the way ahead of them. “After you,” he said to Jomm.

Jomm rode on ahead, and H’rit followed. Gerren laughed when the healer reached over and touched Xandrian as he passed, releasing a stream of ghostly green qi into his friend.

Xandrian scowled and berated H’rit for the waste of energy, but Gerren noticed that the mage looked much better afterward.

H’rit looked smugly satisfied.

 

* * *

 

“People actually take animals on this … path?” Xandrian cast a dubious eye on the barely-discernible trail ahead of them. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a long time.”

Jomm laughed. “People _used_ to take animals along this track—they would take flocks of sheep down to the plains to graze. You’re right, though, it hasn’t been used in many years, so it won’t be an easy ride. But it will take us to where Nikolon is, and I doubt he counted on people traveling this way. He might not even know about this trail.”

Xandrian nodded. “Very good,” he said.

Jomm gave him a crooked grin. “I’m so happy you approve.”

“Fuck you.”

They slowly made their way single-file along the narrow, winding path. It was overgrown with weeds and low-hanging branches, and Jomm rode first, occasionally stopping their progress so that he could clear the path of rocks or fallen branches. He lectured them about “trail courtesy” and how they should hold branches aside until the next rider could grasp them. 

Gerren was fascinated with how close they were to the trees while they rode. For almost two moons they had traveled on roads, where most of the time the forest had been off in the distance or cleared well away. Even when they were in the mountain pass there had been no trees; Gerren had seen nothing but a few scrubby bushes and lots of rocks. Here, they were _in_ the forest itself. It became a game to caress the satiny leaves and run his fingers along the rough, bumpy bark of the branches. He laughed as he ducked under a swaying branch that H’rit had released.

Xandrian cursed behind him. Gerren looked back and saw that the mage had been hit by the branch Gerren had just ducked under. “Damn it, Gerren—you’re supposed to hold the damn branch and wait until I take it!”

“Sorry,” Gerren said, biting his lip.

“This is the third time you’ve let a branch hit me. That’s it, move over—you’re going last.” Xandrian rode past him while the other men laughed.

The trail was soon was rising higher along the northern side of the wooded valley. Gerren looked down at the dense forest below and was reminded of the mountain pass they had taken only days earlier. He was reminded of the rockslide as well. He shuddered.

Almost as if Jomm heard his thoughts, the tracker called out, “You okay back there, Gerren? We’ll be fine; the rocks are different here and there aren’t any stupid nobles racing to the top of the valley.”

“I’m all right,” Gerren answered.

Xandrian glanced back at him. “You sure?”

There was genuine concern in the mage’s expression, and the sight of the emotion made Gerren smile. “Yes,” he said. Now Gerren was reminded of the night after the rockslide, when Xandrian had shown even more emotion, when he had given him pleasure and coupled with him. The memory warmed him.

By late afternoon the sun was starting to dip below the mountain range to their west, cooling the air and lengthening their shadows. When they reached a wide, rough-hewn ledge Jomm called a halt. “We’ll stop here for the night,” he said while he dismounted, and then he pointed toward the bramble-covered rockface to their left. “There’s a shallow cave behind all those vines; it has plenty of room for us and the horses.” He turned and gestured at the edge of the trail. “That’s a path that leads to the valley floor, and there’s a creek down there that has fresh water for drinking and washing up.”

“Was this where the shepherds used to stay, Jomm?” H’rit had climbed off his gelding and was peering down into the dense foliage below.

“I think so. The cave’s been enlarged, so it could easily shelter one or two people and a decent-sized flock of sheep. And the location makes sense travel-wise—there’s no way to safely traverse this trail in one day. We’ll get to the top of the plateau late tomorrow morning, and we’ll reach the castle by late afternoon.”

“My goodness, that’s a lot of effort just to let sheep graze,” H’rit said. “No wonder clothes made with Arrellian wool are so expensive.”

Jomm laughed. “It’s worth it, though,” he said. “There must be something in the mountain air, because their fleece makes some of the warmest, lightest wool I’ve ever worn.”

Gerren hopped off his saddle and went over to the barely visible cave. Long, twisting vines covered most of the entrance, and he pulled aside a swathe of leafy curtain and peered inside. All that he could see was a leaf-strewn dirt floor and bumpy walls of rock. “There are no bears,” he said, disappointed.

Xandrian rolled his eyes. “You’re unhappy about this.”

Gerren pointed inside the opening. “The rocks do not sparkle here, they are ugly. This is a boring cave.”

Jomm snorted. “Picky little snot. Your arse’ll be warmer in that ‘boring’ cave than out on the open plain.” He shoved two large, oilcloth buckets at Gerren. “Here—take these down that trail, fill them up at the creek and carry them back up. They’re for the horses.” He tossed two smaller, but similar containers to Xandrian. “You can fill these up, they’ll be for us. H’rit and I will clear away this brush and unload the animals.”

Moments later Gerren was picking his way down the worn, overgrown trail, swinging the empty buckets while he walked ahead of Xandrian. He could hear the rushing water of the creek, although he could not see it yet through all of the foliage. He grinned; it was like he was going to a secret place, just like when he had found the second waterfall. He glanced back at Xandrian. “Do you think there might be a waterfall here, Xandrian?”

“Probably not,” Xandrian replied. “The water is flowing from the large river we left behind.” He bent down and cleared a tangle of roots from the path. “We should clear hazards like this now; otherwise we’ll risk tripping when our buckets are full and heavy.”

Gerren laughed. “You sound like Jomm.”

Xandrian whacked him with one of his empty buckets.

Ten minutes later they reached the valley floor. It was a wild looking place, littered with large boulders and fallen trees, and when Gerren looked up he could barely see the ledge they had just left. The air was filled with birdsong and the rushing of the creek, and Gerren drank his fill of the sparkling clear water before he filled the buckets. He watched Xandrian fill his containers and take a drink, and his gaze lingered on the droplets of water that clung to the mage’s glistening lips.

Xandrian stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked toward Gerren, and then he placed a hand on Gerren’s chest and pushed him back against a large boulder that had fallen next to the creek.

“Xandrian, wha—” Gerren’s words were cut off by a hot, hungry mouth. Xandrian’s kisses were rough and deep, and his tongue invaded Gerren’s mouth while his hands slid up to  cradle Gerren’s face. Gerren groaned and opened his mouth wider to welcome the onslaught, and their tongues were soon thrusting and sliding wetly together. Gerren worked his hands beneath Xandrian’s cloak and clutched at the soft wool of Xandrian’s tunic, trying to pull the mage closer to him.

Xandrian broke off their kiss and glared at him, panting. “You little shit,” he said with a low growl, his breath puffing warm and damp on Gerren’s face, “I could sense you this afternoon, when I was searching for traps. You distracted the hell out of me—I’m lucky I found those two spots.” He sought Gerren’s mouth again.

Gerren kissed him back until he was gasping for air. “M-me?” Gerren wasn’t sure where this was going, but he liked the rough kisses and the way that Xandrian’s body was pressed close to his. The hard ridge of an erection nudged against his hip, and Gerren smelled the musk of Xandrian’s arousal.

“Yes, you.” Xandrian traced Gerren’s lips with a callused finger. “You were thinking about me fucking you,” he murmured, and he pushed the digit into Gerren’s mouth. “And then you were thinking about sucking my cock.”

Gerren slid his tongue along Xandrian’s finger, and he was rewarded with a husky groan.

Xandrian released him and leaned back against the boulder while he hiked up his tunic and fumbled with the ties on his breeches, and Gerren dropped to his knees and helped him undo the laces. Gerren soon had what he had been wanting all afternoon, and while he eagerly licked and sucked at hard, hot flesh he could hear the muffled grunts and gasps of Xandrian’s pleasure.

Slender fingers tangled in his hair while Xandrian’s hips began to rock, thrusting into his mouth. Gerren made quick work of his own laces to free his aching erection, and then he stroked himself while he continued to move his tongue along the underside of Xandrian’s cock.

A choked moan escaped Xandrian’s throat, and seconds later warm, wet spend flooded Gerren’s mouth. He swallowed the bitter fluid while his own climax quickly overtook him, and with a muffled groan Gerren shuddered and came, his release spattering on the fallen leaves that covered the forest floor where he knelt.

Gerren let Xandrian’s softening length slip from his mouth, and then he rested his forehead on the jut of Xandrian’s hipbone, panting as he caught his breath. Xandrian’s hands left his hair and gripped his shirt, and Gerren let himself be pulled up and pressed back against the boulder.

“What a mouth you have,” Xandrian murmured, brushing his thumb across Gerren’s wet, swollen lips.

“I pleased you?” Gerren nipped the stroking thumb.

“Gods, yes,” Xandrian said, and he tilted up Gerren’s chin and kissed him, slow and deep.

Gerren pushed his tongue into Xandrian’s mouth, letting the mage taste the tang of his own release. He slipped his hand into the front of Xandrian’s breeches and cupped the flesh he found there. “I want to do it again,” he said. “I like tasting your flesh that way.”

Xandrian groaned and kissed him again, trailing his lips along Gerren’s jaw and down the side of his neck. Gerren gasped when he felt Xandrian’s teeth sink into the sensitive skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder—it felt both ticklish and incredibly arousing, and he buried his face against Xandrian’s shoulder to muffle a moan.

“It’s not that hard to fill buckets with water, you know.” High above them, Jomm’s voice cut through the haze of Gerren’s arousal. “You put them in the water, water goes in them. Very simple.”

Xandrian sighed and tugged Gerren’s hand out of his breeches. “There was a lot of debris on the trail,” he called. “We’re on our way.” He pushed Gerren in the direction of the creek. “We need to wash up,” he said quietly. “Make sure you rinse your mouth out, too.”

They quickly washed and re-did their lacings, and were soon hiking back up the trail. The buckets were very heavy now that they were filled, and Gerren was glad they had taken the time to clear away the roots and rocks. By the time they reached the ledge, both men were happy to set their burdens down.

“There’s our intrepid water-bearers,” Jomm said, and he picked up one of the large buckets and carried it over to where the horses were settled. The animals eagerly drank, nosing each other’s muzzles aside to get better access to the cold, clean water. “Set that other one over by the cave’s mouth for now, Gerren—we’ll give that bucket to them later tonight.”

“Won’t they need it in the morning?” H’rit asked as he took the smaller buckets into the cave. Gerren looked inside and saw that a fire was already going, and a large pot was filled with chopped vegetables and chunks of salted beef. His stomach rumbled in anticipation of the stew that was to come.

Jomm filled the pot with some of the water and set it on a grate over the fire. “Aye, they’ll need it then, too. It just means another trip to the creek at dawn.”

“Xandrian and I can get the water again!” Gerren yelped seconds later when Xandrian poked him sharply in the ribs.

Jomm laughed while he stirred the contents of the pot. “He might not want to exert himself again, lad—look, today’s trip has him red in the face.”

Gerren glanced at Xandrian; the mage’s cheeks were indeed splashed with color, but the poke and the clench of Xandrian’s jaw suggested embarrassment rather than fatigue. 

Xandrian’s gaze met his, and the glitter in those violet eyes told Gerren that they would definitely be going to the creek at first light.

_tbc..._


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men reach Nikolon's hideout, and in the dark of night plans are made - both for the morning and the future.

"Move along, sleepyhead," Jomm said, and he gave Gerren's mare a gentle swat as the young man passed him, yawning widely. "We're almost to the top of the valley."  
  
"Will we eat our mid-day meal then?" Gerren rubbed at his stomach, and he yawned again. "It is almost mid-day."  
  
"Aye, we will. You could use a nap after we eat—you got up awfully early to go down to the creek this morning. Did the … water … taste good?"  Jomm watched with amusement while color rose in Gerren's cheeks.  
  
"I—water … y-yes?"  
  
"And this time I think you'd best take your nap while Xandrian searches for traps, instead of watching his pretty hair move with the wind."  
  
Gerren scowled at him. "Stop teasing me, Jomm," he said, and he urged his mare to move faster as he followed the other two men up the trail.  
  
Jomm laughed. Gerren was ridiculously easy to tease, and their short exchange had not only provided some entertainment but had confirmed one of Jomm's theories.  
  
The mage and his pet whatever-he-was were lovers, Jomm was sure of it now.  
  
At the very least, they were sucking each other's cocks. Jomm had enough experience with that particular pleasure to know how a partner's mouth looked afterward, and he'd had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing earlier when Xandrian and Gerren had returned, rosy-lipped and short of breath, from their early morning trip to the creek.  
  
And something had gone on between the two of them the previous afternoon as well. During their ride to the cave Xandrian had been wound tighter than a harp string, and at first Jomm had attributed it to the stress of sensing the traps. Then he'd seen Gerren staring at the mage, and the hunger in the young man's gaze had nothing to do with food. Later, their delay in filling the water buckets had been somewhat suspect, especially when Jomm had caught sight of Gerren's kiss-swollen lips. The clincher had been Xandrian's relaxed mood during the rest of the evening; he had obviously released some 'tension' down at the creek, probably right into Gerren's eager mouth.  
  
 _Debris on the trail my ass,_ Jomm thought.  
  
H'rit, bless him, hadn't noticed a thing. It made Jomm wonder whether his friend had ever experienced a hungry mouth on his cock, and whether H'rit's older, scholarly lover had ever pleasured him that way. The thought made Jomm's mind go to a dangerous place, and for a few brief moments he allowed himself to think about how H'rit would respond to such attentions, and how wonderful it would be to watch that reserved, careful man come undone and lose himself in pleasure.  
  
 _Enough._ Jomm reluctantly pushed the wayward thoughts aside while he watched the other men leave the valley. Xandrian was already at the top, scowling down at them, while H'rit led his gelding up the steep incline, coaxing his skittish horse with calm and reassuring words. Gerren soon followed in his usual fearless way, clambering up the trail and tugging on his mare's reins to urge her along.  
  
Jomm smiled; they were doing well, this rag-tag group of his, and he hoped he would bring them all back alive. "Let's go, laddie-buck," he said to his horse as he tugged on the reins, "there's nice sweet grass up there."  
  
They stopped in a small clearing to eat, and Jomm was pleased to see Gerren settle down for a nap while Xandrian scanned the area for traps. After watering the horses at a small bubbling brook, Jomm filled several carved wooden cups with ice-cold water and then he walked over to where H'rit was resting beneath the shade of a scrubby pine tree.  
  
"I'm curious," he said, handing H'rit one of the cups, "are you able to sense any of these spell-traps that Xandrian has found?" He sat down next to H'rit and leaned back against the tree's rough, knobby bark.  
  
"Not really," H'rit replied, and he took a long draught of the water. "Goodness, that's cold!" He set the cup down on the grass next to him. "Although when we were close to the one that Xan destroyed, I felt something … off … about the area." He gestured off in the distance to the east. "Right now I can tell you that there's a wrongness way over there, but I couldn't get you to specific spots like Xan could. His education is much more varied than mine, and his power is stronger."  
  
"That doesn't mean your skills are any less valuable." Jomm waggled a finger at him. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you find ways to touch us and give us some of that qi of yours. I had expected you and Xandrian to have a much harder time of it on this leg of our journey, and thanks to you and your sneaky qi we are all well-rested and healthy."  
  
"Apparently I wasn't sneaky enough, if you noticed it." H'rit drank some more water.  
  
Jomm caught a small, satisfied smile hiding behind H'rit's cup. "I'm an observant bastard."  
  
"So Xandrian has told me." H'rit looked past him and smiled. "And speak of the devil. Any luck, Xan?"  
  
Xandrian sat down heavily across from them both, and grunted his thanks when Jomm gave him a cup of water. He drained the cup, wiped his mouth and then replied, "Found a few." He glanced over at Jomm. "Are we going that way?" he asked, pointing to the east.  
  
"No," said Jomm, and he shot a quick grin at H'rit. "We're going over there, to that lovely chunk of rock." He pointed just ahead of them to the north, where a worn, craggy cliff rose from the surrounding forest.  
  
"Good. Then we won't have to do anything about the spots I found." Xandrian held out his cup for more water. "I'm a little concerned that I didn't sense any to the north, if that's where we're going."  
  
Jomm retrieved his waterskin and filled the mage's cup. "Well, we're being sneaky and going around the back way, where there aren't any roads or trails. Let me ask you both a question—if you had a castle there, at the base of that cliff, where would you set traps?"  
  
"Along all the roads and trails leading to it," Xandrian replied promptly, and H'rit nodded in agreement.  
  
"Would you trap that cliff?"  
  
Xandrian raised a hand to shield his eyes from the midday sun while he surveyed the rockface ahead of them. "Why? It seems like the cliff itself would provide an excellent defense."  
  
H'rit was peering at the escarpment as well. "There's a castle there? All I see is rock and forest. But I agree with Xan."  
  
 _Mages,_ Jomm thought. _Too practical for their own good._ "There is one, friend H'rit, although it's a bit of a mess. And I'm guessing that Nikolon Jant probably thought the same thing as you did, and that's why neither one of you is sensing any traps there."  
  
Xandrian's gaze narrowed, and then he turned to look at Jomm. "Please don't tell me we're going to climb that cliff."  
  
 _Too smart for their own good, too._ "You'll both be fine," Jomm said, and he laughed when both mages groaned. "Xandrian, go wake up your pet and let's get going."  
  
* * *  
  
It seemed to take an eternity to reach the cliff's summit.  
  
Xandrian crawled the remainder of the way onto the jutting ledge and let himself collapse there. He rested his cheek against the cool sandstone, gasping for breath. He glanced over and noted that H'rit was similarly sprawled, and when he flicked his gaze over at Jomm and Gerren he saw the two men watching them with great amusement. And breathing normally, the bastards.  
  
"What … hah … do you two find so … hah … .funny?" he said, panting, and he glared at them both. "Mountain … hah … climbing was not part of our … hah … studies."  
  
"Oh g-gods, no," wheezed H'rit.  
  
Jomm handed H'rit a waterskin. "Gerren—give your treasure some water. Gentlemen, I think you'll find the view is worth the roundabout hike."  
  
Gerren shoved his waterskin at Xandrian, and the mage unfastened the plug and took a long, deep drink; he was too thirsty and tired to complain about being called a 'treasure'.  
  
Jomm gave them a few minutes, and then he scooted himself in between them at the edge of the precipice. He pointed down. "There," he said. "The dragon's lair."  
  
Xandrian looked where he was pointing and frowned. "It's a ruin."  
  
Sixty feet below, almost hidden by a wild overgrowth of trees and bramble, was a small, dilapidated castle. Two of its three towers had collapsed, scattering hewn stone and rotted timbers about the base of its high wall. Part of the wall had crumbled away too.  
  
"I checked into this place a bit on my way back to the Collegium," Jomm said. "It's almost six centuries old, and it had been ransacked maybe four hundred years ago. See how the forest has almost completely grown up around it? That's why you couldn't see it from where we were earlier."  
  
Six centuries … and a barely habitable ruin. Xandrian marveled at the difference between this place and the Archmage's ancestral home, which was older by several hundred years and in excellent condition. "So this is where you saw him go when you followed him." At Jomm's nod he continued, "But how do we know he's still there? You were here almost two months ago, he could have—"  
  
"Xan." H'rit was gripping the edge of the rocky ledge, staring down at the wreckage below them.  
  
Xandrian raised his head and peered over Jomm's shoulder at his friend. "What is it?"  
  
"My books are here. I can feel them, but just barely. It's amazing." He turned and stared at Xandrian, his eyes wide. "Can you feel yours?"  
  
Xandrian closed his eyes; yes, he could feel them. Even at this distance, their energy pulsed in his mind, cataloging his learned spells and readying them for use. Spells of summoning, conjuring, transformation; the books seemed to welcome him, acknowledging him as their master. It was an incredible feeling.  
  
More spells readied themselves and seeped into his consciousness.  
  
Metamorphosis … transmutation … charms … runes …  
  
 _Wait._ Xandrian's eyes flew open.  
  
 _Charms? Runes?_ Those spells were not part of the Ephemerist canon.  
  
They were Talismanist.  
  
"Oh, no," Xandrian breathed, and a tightness gripped his chest.  
  
"Xandrian, what is it? What's wrong?"  
  
"Shuren's books," Xandrian whispered hoarsely. "They're here." He lowered his head and pressed his forehead against the cool stone. "And they're mine now."  
  
H'rit sat up. "Shuren? What does he—oh. Oh. Xan, I'm so sorry."  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Jomm eased back and sat cross-legged, looking back and forth between the two mages.  
  
"Xandrian, are you all right?" Gerren's voice was anxious, and Xandrian felt a warm hand on his back.  
  
"I'm fine." Xandrian sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. The bastard had taken someone else from him. "I am sensing the Talismanist books that belonged to my former …"— _friend, lover_ —"master, Shuren. He must have been killed as well."  
  
"That's a damn shame, Xandrian." From the look on Jomm's face, Xandrian figured H'rit must have told him something about his relationship with Shuren.  
  
He grunted his thanks, and glanced over at H'rit. The healer's expression was full of compassion, as well as his own grief; he had been friends with Shuren too. "H'rit," Xandrian said, "he must have made me his heir, if I can feel those books."  
  
H'rit gaped at him. "But … you weren't his apprentice. You left him to return to Homis years ago."  
  
"I know, but that's the only reason I can think of that would explain all these spells coursing through me right now. I can feel his books and Homis'. They are all mine now."  
  
H'rit glanced down at the ruined castle. "Xandrian, let's do the Banning again. Now. And Ban him from Shuren's books as well."  
  
Xandrian nodded, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position.  
  
H'rit traced _Gu'unen_ , the glyph of Intent, on his palm, and he sketched the same glyph in the air as he faced the ruins. He pressed his palms together. "I, H'rit of Merithen, do Ban thee, Nikolon Jant, from any spellbooks that are mine by right, by creation and by inheritance. I Ban thee from ever seeing a single word, whether written by me or those who came before me. I, H'rit of Merithen, do Ban thee now and forever."  
  
Xandrian repeated the gestures and words, wrapping them with his power and pushing them toward the ghostly mental images of his books. "… I, Xandrian of Merithen, do Ban thee now and forever."  
  
The two mages looked at each other. "It should work, this close," H'rit said.  
  
Gerren had been watching them with great interest. "Why do you have the same name?" he asked. "You are not brothers."  
  
"No, but we're orphans," Xandrian replied. "Orphans—"  
  
"And bastards," Jomm added helpfully.  
  
"And bastards," Xandrian continued, "carry the name of the town or city where they live. H'rit and I have no family name."  
  
Gerren turned to Jomm. "Are you an orphan or bastard too?"  
  
"I am not," Jomm replied indignantly. "I have a family name, I just choose not to use it."  
  
Gerren tugged on Xandrian's sleeve. "Am I Gerren of Merithen?"  
  
Xandrian shook his head. "No, you would be Gerren of"—he searched his memory for the name of the Archmage's estate—"Vostgren."  
  
"Gerren of Vostgren," the young man repeated. "I like—"  
  
They were interrupted by a long, ragged scream of rage from the ruins below.  
  
The men scrambled back to the edge and cautiously looked down.  
  
"Damn you, Homis!" The cliff echoed _Homis, Homis, Homis_. "What did you do to these fucking books?" _Books, books, books._  
  
There was the sound of a small explosion, and another scream bounced off the sheer rock face.  
  
"He has been Banned," H'rit said, and his smile had a vicious slant to it.  
  
Jomm tapped Xandrian and H'rit on the shoulder and gestured toward the narrow path they had taken minutes earlier. "Let's go."  
  
The four men made their way down from the ledge, and Jomm led them through bracken and overgrown brush until they reached a small stone structure. Once a sentinel tower that had protected the castle from high above, it was now a dilapidated shell that clung tenaciously to the rocky soil. "We'll stay here tonight," Jomm said. "The lower floor is sound, and we'll have at least a partial roof over our heads. There's rooms of a sort—quarters for a handful of sentries, most likely—although I think we should just pick two and double up." He motioned for Gerren to take their bedrolls into the building.  
  
"What about the horses?" H'rit asked while he carried their satchel of food. "Will they be all right where we left them?"  
  
Jomm nodded. "They'll be fine. That field looks to be an old paddock; there's sweet grass and plenty of water, so I think they will quite happily stay there."  
  
Xandrian worked on making a ward around the tower while the other three men cleared the debris away from their chosen sleeping areas. Xandrian's lips moved wordlessly as he drew the glyphs, and when he finished marking the perimeter he drew a larger symbol at the ruined entrance and uttered a sealing spell. The glyphs blazed with a bright, white light, and then they faded to a faint but steady glow.  
  
Jomm stared at the pale, shimmering symbols. "Is it my imagination or is this ward stronger than any of your other ones? And H'rit didn't even add his qi."  
  
Xandrian nodded. "It's stronger." While he had traced the glyphs he had felt their power surging through him, and it had been an intoxicating, exhilarating feeling.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Xandrian is now the Master of the Talismanist books that hold those spells," H'rit answered, "and we are physically near the books. That will increase a spell's power."  
  
Xandrian gripped H'rit's shoulder. "This will apply for your Regenerist spells too, H'rit. And my Ephemerist spells. My god, no wonder they all refused him - could you imagine someone like him with this kind of power? With so many books?"  
  
"Now I can see why Kisannon sent us," said H'rit.  
  
"Let's set up camp, eat, and then talk about what we want to do," Jomm suggested.  
  
It was short work to set up their meager camp. By agreement, there was no fire, but after they all sat down on the stone floor Jomm dug a few fat candles out of his pack and set them in a cluster  for H'rit to light. Jomm produced a flask, and after he took a swig he passed it around. "You too, Gerren - you deserve a bit of spirits to warm your belly."  
  
Gerren took a cautious sip. He made a face as he swallowed, and he coughed helplessly until Xandrian handed him a waterskin.  
  
Jomm broke up a millet cake and passed the pieces around, and then he took out his knife and began slicing up a smoked sausage. "I figured out a way to get us down to that rear courtyard tomorrow," he said while he cut thick slices of the spicy meat. "And I'm pretty confident that I can get us inside fairly easily after that." He stabbed a large slice and held it out to Xandrian. "Is there anything you can do to make us less noticeable?"  
  
"Yes, thanks to Shuren," Xandrian replied, and he took the proffered piece. "I can make us invisible. Almost invisible, anyway."  
  
Jomm stopped mid-chew. "Invisible? Really?"  
  
Xandrian nodded. "I learned the charm from him years ago, and I had figured that at the very least I could make us appear blurred or distorted. With the added power of owning the his books, I think the charms will be strong enough to almost completely hide us."  
  
"Well now, that will be a big help."  
  
"I thought so."  
  
Jomm grinned and handed him the flask. "Let's drink to Shuren, then, for he has helped us."  
  
Xandrian took a swig. "To Shuren," he said, and he passed the flask to H'rit _. I don't know why you did this, Shuren,_ he thought, _but thank you._  
  
They finished their meal, and Jomm rose and yawned, stretching his fingers toward the rapidly darkening sky. "Well, we'd best turn in. I think we should head in there at dawn; we'll be able to see where we're going, and hopefully anyone who's in the castle will still be asleep." When the other men rose he added, "We'll leave our gear here—no point in wasting time lugging it back down just yet. Xan, how much time will you need for your spells?"  
  
Xandrian did some quick calculations in his head, and then replied, "A half hour at the most, if I make the charms tonight." He picked up one of the candles. "I have a travel lamp, so I'll be fine with this." He gave Gerren a gentle shove toward the room they were to share, and then followed him.  "Good night."  
  
* * *  
  
 _Piloth_. "I am the Trickster, who makes things vanish with a wave of his hand."  
  
 _Shebbet_. "I am the Thief, who disappears into the crowd."  
  
 _Nunkat_. "I am the Seer, who uses the mirror of Illusion."  
  
"Ye Three, bestow the illusion of Not-Here, don the Cloak of our surroundings, and allow us to Vanish before any who would see us." Xandrian repeated the words and the Intention behind them in a quiet murmur as he carefully inked the glyphs onto slips of soft parchment. When he finished writing the charms, he retrieved a small pot of adhesive and began to brush the sticky substance onto the backs of the papers while Gerren lay next to him under the blankets and watched him in silent fascination.  
  
The work put him in a strange mood. It felt good to be scribing again, and the increase in Talismanist power made his fingertips tingle as he wielded the brush. But the glyphs he was writing, and the spells he was reciting, had been taught to him by someone who was now lost to him. Even though he had not loved Shuren, Xandrian mourned the death of the man who had been one of his few friends.  
  
"These are done," he said, and he carefully set the last slip down to dry while he removed a shallow tray from the drawer of his scribing-box.  
  
Gerren sat up. "I can talk now?"  
  
"Yes." A smile tugged at the corner of Xandrian's mouth; silence had been the condition of Gerren's presence while Xandrian worked on the charms, and the young man had managed to keep quiet the entire time. "Here," he said, handing Gerren the tray, "place the charms in this tray so they can dry while I put my supplies away. Sticky side up."  
  
"All right." Gerren cautiously picked up one of the charms and peered at it in the flickering candlelight. "I listened to the words you said while you were making these. This charm will trick people into only seeing what's around them, is that right?" He put it in the tray, and reached for another.  
  
"Very good," Xandrian said, and he poured a small amount of water onto a bit of rag and began to clean his brushes. "The spell won't make us actually disappear, it will cover us with the illusion of our surroundings, and that is what people will see. Shuren used to say that a large part of charm-work is tricking people." He finished putting everything away, and then he took the charm-laden tray from Gerren, set it  back inside the drawer and slid the drawer closed.  
  
He rose and put the box over by the wall, and then returned to their makeshift bed. Gerren had combined their bed-rolls, and when Xandrian slid under the blankets he appreciated the extra thickness between his body and the stone floor. The warmth felt good too; Gerren's body heat was like a small furnace, and as the chill left him Xandrian could almost forget that they weren't in a bed. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to ignore the dull pain of eyestrain.  
  
"Xan?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"You are gray again," Gerren said softly, and he burrowed against Xandrian's side. "Are you grieving for Shuren?"  
  
 _I guess I am,_ Xandrian thought.  "Yes," he said.  
  
"I am sorry he is dead," Gerren said. "He was another master?"  
  
"Yes, I studied with him years ago. He was my teacher and my friend. And, for awhile, we were lovers."  
  
"He was your mate?"  
  
Xandrian shook his head. "No. He was someone who I shared pleasure with."  
  
Gerren kissed his jaw. "Am I your lover, Xan? We have shared pleasure. You have coupled with me and given me your seed."  
  
Xandrian turned his head and brushed his mouth against Gerren's forehead. "Yes, you are my lover."  
  
He dipped his head lower to take Gerren's mouth. They kissed, long, slow and sweet, and then more urgently as Xandrian gave himself over to his growing desire. He fished the skin salve out of his pack, and then he leaned over Gerren and kissed his throat, gliding his tongue over smooth skin to trace the glyph of Silence there. " _S'srah_ ," he whispered; the glyph activated, glowing faintly on Gerren's skin.  
  
Gerren blinked and opened his mouth to question him, but no sound came out. His brow furrowed.  
  
Xandrian chuckled as he pulled at Gerren's clothes. "You're noisy," he said, "and you won't hush."  
  
Gerren pouted, and then his lips moved in a silent plea.  
  
"Oh, yes, I'm definitely going to fuck you," Xandrian said, working his way out of his own clothing. He reached for the salve, and as he slowly pushed slicked fingers into Gerren's body he reveled in the way that Gerren responded to every touch, how his body arched against Xandrian's while his lips parted in soundless moans.  
  
Soon he was between Gerren's spread legs, his cock buried in deliciously tight heat, and Xandrian had to struggle to keep himself quiet while he moved with slow, deep thrusts. It felt amazing, and he bit off a moan when Gerren wrapped his legs around his waist and drew him in even further. Time became suspended, a frozen moment where there were no studies, no books, no journeying - there was nothing but the sound of their pleasured gasps and panting breaths, the press of arms and legs twined about him, and the glorious friction of his cock moving inside Gerren's body.  
  
Gerren, Gerren, _Gerren_.  
  
They coupled fiercely, roughly, desperately, and Gerren was soon shuddering and bucking silently beneath him, and the wet warmth of his release spread between their bodies. Xandrian's climax followed soon after, and for a long while he lay joined with Gerren, his face buried in Gerren's sweaty neck, feeling the wild tattoo of Gerren's pulse against the bridge of his nose. He lazily swiped his tongue over the glowing glyph to remove it, and he smiled when the first sound that came out of Gerren's mouth was his name, repeated breathlessly over and over.  
  
After a while Xandrian rolled off of him and they wiped themselves clean and silently dressed. They settled back down on their bedroll, and Xandrian pulled Gerren close and tugged the blankets back over them both.  
"I don't want to leave you, Xan." Gerren's voice was muffled against his shoulder. "I want to stay with you, and be your lover." He pressed kisses on Xandrian's throat. "I want to be your mate," he whispered.  
  
Xandrian squeezed his eyes shut. "I … don't want you to leave either," he said, and he worked his hand under Gerren's shirt to rest it against the small of Gerren's back. "I want you with me."  
  
"Then please let me stay."  
  
They kissed, a brief tangle of tongues. "It's not that easy. We made an Agreement, and if I just void it you will immediately return to the Abysm."  
  
They were both was quiet for several minutes, and Gerren idly played with the laces on Xandrian's shirt.  
  
An idea began to form in Xandrian's mind. "If you give me your True Name, I can summon you later."  
  
Gerren hitched himself up on an elbow. "Oh, yes! It's—" His voice choked off.  
  
"Damn," said Xandrian. The geis was working too well; Gerren couldn't tell him. He wouldn't be able to write it, either. _Damn_.  
  
"I'm sorry." Gerren buried his face in Xandrian's neck. "I want to tell you."  
  
"I know you do." He brushed his lips against Gerren's temple, and after a moment another possibility presented itself. "Perhaps we can see to it that you don't complete your task."  
  
"I must … help you," Gerren replied. "That night you said—" his speech stopped again, and he frowned. "I am not able to speak the words."  
  
The geis again, Xandrian thought. "I said,'Thy task shall be complete and thy service to me shall end when I possess the books that I seek, and hold them intact in my hands,'" he said, recalling the night he had Beckoned the young demon. "What if I don't do that with the books?"  
  
"Hold them in your hands?"  
  
"Yes," Xandrian said. _This might work._  
  
"Then my—" Gerren was halted once more, and his brow scrunched as he searched for a different word, "—it wouldn't be done," Gerren finally answered. "I only have to go—ugh!" Gerren grunted with frustration as he was blocked yet again.  
  
"You go back to the Abysm if I die or if I possess the books and hold them in my hands," Xandrian finished for him. "If I don't hold them your task won't be complete."  
  
Gerren raised his head to look at the mage. "But Xan, how can you learn more spells without your books? Don't you need them?" He touched Xandrian's cheek. "I don't want to keep your magic from you."  
  
Xandrian thought for a moment, and then he said, "I can copy the spells when we get back to the Collegium, and make new books. Then when I am done you and H'rit will lock away the originals, so that I will never risk touching them."  
  
Gerren's arm slipped around his waist. "And I will live with you," Gerren said, "and sleep in your bed with you, and you will fuck me at night and in the mornings, too."  
  
Xandrian snorted. "Got it all planned out, do you?" He rolled over so that he was on top of Gerren, and he lowered his head and nipped at Gerren's ear. "Perhaps I might want you to fuck me once in a while," he murmured.  
  
Gerren's eyes widened, and then they took on a predatory gleam. "I think I would like that," he said with a grin.  
  
Xandrian thought he would like it too.  
  
"Can I fuck you now?" Gerren ran a possessive hand over Xandrian's cloth-covered arse.  
  
 _Eager little shit._ Xandrian shook his head and said, "Not tonight." He gave Gerren a rough, deep kiss, and then he shifted away to lie on his back again. "Go to sleep," he said, and he leaned over and blew the candle out.  
For a long time Xandrian lay there and watched the stars through the ruined roof, while he slid his hand up and down Gerren's spine and listened to the steady sound of Gerren's breathing.  
  
He realized that Jomm was right; Gerren loved him.  
  
A demon loved. Loved _him_. It was an amazing, humbling, _frightening_ thing.  
  
Frightening, because Jomm was right about another thing; Xandrian was similarly affected.  
  
Fucking know-all Jomm.  
  
Xandrian pressed one last kiss to Gerren's sweaty forehead and gave himself over to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
H'rit lay in the warm cocoon of his bedroll and stared at the patch of lush night sky that was visible through a large hole in the roof above their heads. Even now, his spells continued seep through him, whispering their names and declaring their readiness in a susurrus of magical energy. The sensation was heady and almost overwhelming, and he felt drunk with it. He was glad that they were waiting until dawn to make their move; this influx of power and stored knowledge was going to take a little getting used to.  
  
Over the rustle and scratch of tree branches swaying in the wind he heard the muffled sounds of Xandrian's and Gerren's lovemaking from the other room. H'rit was amused at their attempts to keep quiet.  
  
He wasn't terribly surprised that they were lovers. Gerren made no secret of his fascination for Xandrian, and H'rit had noticed the tells of attraction on his friend's face over a month ago, had seen the way Xandrian's gaze would frequently drift toward Gerren. He was pretty sure that something had happened between them the night of the thunderstorm, and that they had become intimate some time in the past week. Gerren had been almost glowing the morning after his accident, and Xandrian's ever-present tension had evaporated—for H'rit, that alone was a dead giveaway. His friend had seemed relaxed and, for the first time in many months, almost content—even if that contentment had only lasted until Jomm's confrontation.  
  
What shocked H'rit was the growing suspicion that Xandrian was emotionally attached to the transformed demon. His friend had always guarded his heart zealously; as far as H'rit knew the only people Xandrian had ever considered friends were him and Shuren. As far as lovers … aside from a few purely physical, one-off encounters, Xandrian's time with Shuren had been his only 'real' relationship—and Xandrian had left him to continue his studies with Homis, to take magic as his lover instead.  
  
And now Gerren had come into their lives, and H'rit would bet his life that Xandrian was falling in love with him. Which begged the question, what would his friend do when his demon lover returned to the Abysm?  
  
There was a chuckle next to him. "Sounds like our friends are having a little 'night-before-the-battle' loving," Jomm said.  
  
The comment made H'rit smile in the darkness. "I think Gerren's been enjoying some 'loving' for a few nights now."  
  
"At least that," Jomm agreed. "Mornings too—they took waaay too long getting that water yesterday and this morning. Personally, I think Xandrian should get some loving more often, it's made him almost agreeable."  
  
H'rit snorted, quickly covering his mouth to quiet himself. He heard the soft rustle of blankets as Jomm rolled over to face him.  
  
"H'rit?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I'm glad to hear you laughing. When we first started out you were like a gray ghost, not quite in this world."  
  
 _That's because I wasn't here,_ H'rit thought. _I was with Kanera._ "I … was grieving. I still am, but every day it is easier to remember Kanera without pain." He turned toward Jomm. "And that is thanks to you. I'm grateful, Jomm, that Kisannon chose you to guide us here, and I truly hope that we will be able to remain friends when we return to the Collegium."  
  
"'When we return' ... you're sounding dangerously optimistic, friend H'rit." Jomm's smile flashed white in the ruined, dimly-lit room.  
  
"Well, we either return or die, correct? There doesn't seem to be much sense in planning for the other option." H'rit smiled again when he saw Jomm's moonlight-limned shoulders shake with laughter.  
  
"You are a treasure, H'rit." Jomm leaned forward and seconds later H'rit felt warm lips on his.  
  
Without thinking, H'rit kissed him back.  
  
Jomm made a low noise in his throat and moved closer, sliding his hand into H'rit's hair while he deepened the kiss.  
  
 _He smells of forest,_ H'rit thought. _Of trees and earth and living things._ He could feel Jomm's heartbeat, strong and fast, and the warmth of Jomm's fingers as they threaded through his hair.  
  
H'rit's own heart was pounding so hard he felt as if it would leap out of his chest. His pulse was roaring in his ears as the tiny stone room seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but Jomm—Jomm's arm slipping around him and drawing him close, and Jomm's tongue delving into his mouth, warm and wet. Tendrils of desire unfurled in H'rit's belly and traveled down to his groin.  
  
Desire? The realization shamed him. How could he be feeling desire for another so soon after Kanera's death? Flustered, H'rit broke off this kiss and tried to push Jomm away. "I... Jomm... We—"  
  
"Shh," Jomm murmured, pressing a callused fingertip to H'rit's lips, "none of that. Tonight, this was a kiss between friends. We can decide if it is more than than when we get back to the Collegium."  
  
A soft laugh escaped H'rit before he could help himself. "That sounds dangerously optimistic, friend Jomm."  
  
"It's always good to have a goal."  
  
H'rit laughed again, and when he felt Jomm's hand curl around his he didn't pull away. "Goodnight, Jomm," he said.  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
H'rit's heart continued to race and he could still taste Jomm on his tingling lips—it seemed as if all his senses were heightened. He listened while Jomm's breathing changed to the even, steady rhythms of sleep, and he felt the warmth of the hand that was clasping his.  
  
 _He has a warm heart as well,_ H'rit thought, remembering the night Jomm had helped him after the grisly bandit attack. His gaze returned to the stars above him, and he wondered if Kanera's spirit was among them; she had always liked to believe that the dead looked after the living from the heavens.  
  
 _I like him very much, dear one,_ he silently told the sky. _He is a good man, and a good friend as well._ He smiled, thinking of what his ever-practical lover would say about his present state of nerves. He twined his fingers with Jomm's, and when Jomm tightened his grip and murmured H'rit's name H'rit closed his eyes and savored the heat that coursed through him.  
  
No _, my love, that was not a kiss between friends._  
  
* * *  
  
"It feels strange, having a strip of paper glued to my face," Jomm commented when Xandrian finished applying the prepared charm slip to his cheek in the pale, pre-dawn light.  
  
The mage snorted. "It's the best spot to have to pull it off in a hurry. Would you rather I attached it here?" He poked Jomm in the chest, just above where his shirt was unlaced.  
  
Jomm shuddered. "No, thanks." He glanced at the others, chuckling when he saw Xandrian smack Gerren's hand away from fiddling with his charm.  
  
"But it tickles!" Gerren protested.  
  
"Too bad," Xandrian retorted. "Leave it alone." He turned back to Jomm. "I'll wait until we climb down to activate these."  
  
"Makes sense," Jomm agreed. "So, once you do your hokum, will we be be able to see each other at all?"  
  
"If I did this right, you'll see blurred shapes—so at least we'll be able to keep out of each other's way." Xandrian glanced down at the sword that hung at Jomm's side. "That's going to be tough," he said, pointing at the weapon. "You should be fine until you unsheathe it, since it's in a hard leather scabbard. Metal is hard to charm."  
  
"Well, based on what I've seen over the last few days, I'm sure you did it right," Jomm said, touching the parchment slip. "I can feel the power in this, and it's just a piece of paper you painted some squiggles on." He gestured at H'rit. "You two were having a long chat earlier. Anything I need to know about?"  
  
Xandrian hesitated, and Jomm was amused to see patches of pink appear on the mage's cheeks. "We're going to … try something with Gerren. We're going to see if we can get the books without having him … return to his true form."  
  
 _Someone wants his lover to stay._ "The lad's a ferocious fighter just as he is," Jomm said. "You have a good chance. You have me, too."  
  
Xandrian's piercing violet gaze met his. "You don't have to go in, you know," he said, his expression serious. "You were hired to get us to this place, and take us back if we succeed. You can wait here for us."  
  
"Fuck that," Jomm said. "This started out as just a good-paying job, but you have all become my friends, and I will help you any way I can."  
  
Xandrian gaped at him  
.  
Jomm laughed. "Yes, you too, you grumpy bastard."  
  
"I …" Xandrian's mouth opened, then closed, and then the mage held out his hand. "Thank you … my friend."  
  
Jomm shook his hand, and then clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank me when we're done," he said. "Let's get going."  
  
The four men were silent as they made their way down the side of the cliff. When they reached the bottom they drew together in a close circle while Xandrian quietly murmured the activation spell and touched each of their charms.  
  
Jomm couldn't help but gasp when the others vanished before him. But they hadn't truly vanished; when he looked closely he could see the shimmering outlines of his friends' bodies. He marveled at the magic. "I can see you, but just barely." A blur that was Xandrian's head nodded.  
  
"I built that into the charms, to allow us to see each other somewhat. It would be a shame to successfully get in there and then accidentally stab each other. It's also very hard to follow a completely invisible man."  
Jomm chuckled softly. "How long will this last?" he asked.  
  
"At least six hours. If your charm is removed, you will become visible, and I can also end the spell on all the charms with a command."  
  
"Very good," Jomm said. "Follow me, friends—quietly."  
  
He led them along the moss and ivy-covered outer wall, and he stopped when they reached a spot where the stone blocks had crumbled away. Jomm stayed his companions with a wave of a ghostly hand while he quickly clambered over the rubble and scanned the courtyard for guards of any kind. It was deserted, so he returned and guided the other three men into the ruined courtyard.  
  
"We should stay close to the wall," he whispered, "until we get to that breach in the back wall of the castle."  
  
"Why don't we go straight across?" Xandrian asked, equally quiet.  
  
"Possible traps," Jomm replied. He saw the blurred figure to the right shake his head.  
  
"There are no traps," Xandrian said. "I scanned this whole area."  
  
"I didn't sense anything either." H'rit's voice came from his left. "It's getting lighter out, we should move quickly."  
  
Jomm scowled, and then he realized that none of them could see his expression. "I don't trust it; it doesn't feel right."  
  
"Jomm, I spent extra time and attention on this area this morning, and I found nothing." Xandrian's voice held annoyance and impatience. "You're the one who said we should get in there before dawn breaks. Dawn is breaking, let's go."  
  
Xandrian headed across the cracked flagstone of the courtyard, and Jomm watched the hazy figures of the other two men follow behind him.  
  
Jomm sighed. It didn't help that he couldn't say why he was distrustful of the open space by the castle's wall, although there was definitely something about the leaves he didn't like. _They're just branches and leaves_ , he told himself. Just because they didn't look as wind-blown as the other piles that were blown into the corners—  
  
 _Fuck_. A horrible possibility rose in Jomm's mind.  
  
"Xan! Wait!" he called, not caring about the noise he made.  
  
But he was too late; Jomm watched helplessly as what looked like flagstone revealed itself as painted oilcloth, hidden under the leaves and branches. The whole area caved in beneath the three men, and they completely disappeared from view into the stone pit that was revealed.  
  
Jomm started to run over to the pit, but he stopped when he heard shouts coming from inside the castle. He quickly moved to one of the courtyard's corners and watched as a group of gaunt, bandy-legged creatures emerged from the opening in the castle wall. Jomm saw pointed ears beneath scraggly, matted hair and the flash of fangs as they loped over to the pit.  
  
 _Demons_. Jomm's hand went to the hilt of his sword while he counted them. At least a dozen, and there were probably more inside.  And while they seemed to be the stupid, weaker sort that were favored as enslaved servants, Jomm didn't want to take the risk of confronting them now.  
  
He was better off staying here, and staying invisible, until he could figure out a way to help the others _. Damn mages,_ he thought. _They only thought about magical traps.  
  
tbc..._


End file.
